June 30 - Before the Deluge

It has been one week since Lyle and I were air lifted out from William Watson Lodge. Our motor home is still there. Still, in light of the property loss and emotional trauma suffered by many others in the Calgary and High River area, we count ourselves lucky. By contrast, ours is only a temporary inconvenience.

While it is devastating to think about the property damage and urban loss caused by the rising floodwaters, it is also sad to think about the destruction of much of the natural landscape. In the days before the rain, Lyle and I were on the road between Radium and Banff. I enjoy being in the mountains. The drive between Radium and Banff was quite lovely. We stopped at Simpson River for a picnic lunch. We noticed that the river was already running quite high and had a brown/yellow colour with silt, sand and mud stirred up from the bottom.

When we pulled into the little parking lot, Lyle could see a large moose standing on one of the banks in the shallows. Earlier in the day and closer to Radium, we had also seen a small black bear. He was busy eating the dandelions in the ditch. Later in the Kananaskis Valley, Lyle saw a grizzly as it crossed the road and ambled into the trees. It was bear season and there were lots of warning signs about. I am always a little anxious about this, thinking that I would never be able to see a bear approaching. I wonder about the fate of all the forest creatures and hope that they were able to escape from the floodwaters to safety.

There are three pictures with this. The first photo is of the small black bear by the roadside. Unfortunately, the little bear didn’t stop to pose and so the picture shows him ambling away from the camera. 

Black bear on a stroll

 In the second picture, I am standing by the bank of the Simpson River. The water level is high but the rain didn’t start here until the following day. Along with the rain came melting snow from the mountain peaks and subsequent washouts in this same area.

Sue in front of the Simpson River

 In the third picture, I am sitting on a rock beside the river.  Perhaps you can get the sense of the rushing water by the white waves pushing against the sand and rocks.

Sitting on a rock

June 27 - Flood Damage

There have been many pictures circulating showing some of the devastation caused by the floods in southern Alberta. I have a couple to add to the growing list.
 

The first was taken from the helicopter when Lyle and I were evacuated from William Watson Lodge. We were sitting facing the side window of the chopper and Lyle had our camera ready. He took this first picture as we flew over the golf course beside Kananaskis Village. On most summer days, this golf course is one of the most picturesque spots in the valley. On Saturday, the course was covered with brown muddy water with scattered debris all over. The greens were small islands poking through muddy yellow brown water. The fairways were strewn with branches and whole trees lying sideways in the muck.

Kananaskis golf course

Our daughter took the second picture. On Saturday, Jen’s friend was allowed into his condo building to empty his refrigerator and freezer. The picture was taken from his balcony on the second floor of the building. Where once was a serene park like area of pines and grass, the picture now shows a mess of muddy water, fallen trees and other debris.  Inside the building, the underground parking was still under water, the stench which emanated from all this was cloying and almost overwhelming.  There was no power and there has been no word as to when the building will again be fit for habitation.

Flooding in Discovery Ridge

June 25 - Summer Snow

Snow in the mountains in winter is expected. However, on June 21, it was a bit bizarre for snow to fall so heavily and to last for so long. The first official day of summer in Kananaskis saw huge, wet, feather shaped snowflakes replacing the torrent of rain that had drenched the area for the previous twenty-four plus hours. The weather didn’t help the Search and Rescue teams that had started to make their way down the valley. Their first priority was to locate and air lift a group of twenty-one high school students who were on a camping trip in the higher mountain elevations. When contact was made with the group there was around three feet of snow on the ground. Back at the lodge and on a personal note, I don’t think that my shoes, socks and pant bottoms have been so wet for so long a period of time. The pictures below were taken on the start of that snowy day.

The first picture shows the snowflakes starting to fall around our campsite.

The second picture shows me standing in the snow beside one of the walking trails. 

Campsite

Sue and snowy campsite

June 24 - 2013 Floods in Southern Alberta

Over the past few days, the flood disaster in southern Alberta has been absolute. Heavy rain, melting snow and swollen rivers have wrought havoc on the southern part of the province. It will take days, weeks, months and even years to come to terms with the loss of property and in a few tragic cases, the loss of life. Those of us who live elsewhere have followed this news with a sense of shock and disbelief.

As I write this, the disastrous aftermath of the flood is still unfolding. The area where Lyle and I live has not been affected and so the following is just a small snippet on the edge of events that are continuing to shape the calamity with which many others are dealing.

Not quite one week ago Lyle and I decided to take our motor home out for its first summer camping trip. Our destination was William Watson Lodge in Kananaskis. The lodge is situated in a beautiful mountain valley area and we were delighted when we were able to secure the last campsite of the 14 that were available.  William Watson Lodge was designed to be accessible for people with special needs. Cabins and campsites are all wheelchair accessible and the numerous walking trails are all paved. When we pulled in on Wednesday night, it had just begun to sprinkle. Within an hour, the rain had reached a steady downpour. When we woke the next morning it was to learn that the road in and out of the valley had been closed and that the phone lines were down. There was no cell phone coverage and no Internet access. Essentially, we were cut off from the world outside.

During the day, we had fragmentary news on the radio. We learned about the evacuation of the town of High River and of several neighbourhoods in Calgary and surrounding communities. Some of our fellow travellers in William Watson began to worry about their own supplies, especially of medications and food. How long would we be stranded? How could we get messages to friends and family? What was the extent of the road closures?

Throughout Thursday the rain continued, heavy, loud and relentless. Water was everywhere. It began to run in deep streams down the paved trails. It was still coming down on Thursday night when we went to bed and I was relieved on Friday morning when I woke to silence again. At least, I was relieved until Lyle told me to look out the window. Instead of the pounding rain, there were now huge feathery snowflakes falling, and falling with increasing regularity.

It was during the day on Friday that we began to hear the chatter of helicopters overhead.  One landed in the parking lot of the lodge to deliver medications for a group of individuals with special needs who were staying in the cabins. In the closer parking lot, tents were set up on the asphalt and campers from other campgrounds began to gather in our central location. We were asked to refrain from using the showers and water restrictions were imposed. We noticed that two of the cabins had long hoses extending from the basement to drain overflowing water. A second helicopter came to deliver emergency supplies of groceries.

On Saturday, a general meeting was called and we learned of the possibility of evacuation. Priority lists were made and Lyle and I returned to our motor home to pack a small overnight bag. We locked the door to our motor home and returned to the lodge to await our turn to leave. Those who needed to use wheelchairs, stretchers and those with pressing medical needs were the first to be evacuated. Of course, practical issues had to be addressed when transporting wheelchairs and stretchers to the landing pad and then on board the helicopter itself.

When our turn came we were transported on the handivan to the parking lot where a military Griffon helicopter was waiting for us. The army personnel were great. You could tell that their experience and training in dealing with this sort of thing was paying off. Lyle and I were just two of the eight passengers on our fifteen minute flight across the flooded expanses of the Kananaskis valley. When we landed at the Stoney Nakoda Casino at the intersection of the Trans Canada Highway and Highway 40 at the head of the valley, another group of army men and women were there to escort us to a large tent. I might add that at this point, someone took my picture as I was being helped to the ground. I was using my white cane and this picture has been on two of our television news channels. I haven’t seen this myself, but several friends have phoned to say that they recognized me in the clip.

Today is Sunday and the sun is shining. Lyle and I are home and it is almost surreal to think of the past few days. Our daughter and son-in-law picked us up from the army tent where we had been deposited and drove us to their home in Calgary. They were already hosting a friend from the Calgary area who had been evacuated from his home, so we borrowed their second vehicle to drive to our own home and our own bed. Our motor home remains in Kananaskis. We aren’t sure when we will be able to pick it up but in light of others who have lost everything, we count ourselves very fortunate to have it at all.

Below are several pictures.

Lyle took the first picture of me prior to boarding the helicopter in the parking lot near William Watson Lodge.  The helicopter is an army Griffon capable of holding eight passengers and two pilots.

Sue in front of Griffon helicopter

The second shows me being escorted from the helicopter after our flight.

Getting off the helicopter

The final picture shows me with two of the young men from the military who were assisting in the rescue operation.  

Sue with Canadian Forces personnel

From left to right: Chris, Sue and Ben.

June 16 - Book Reviews

Like many others who can’t see print, I am still a voracious reader. This past week, I have had my nose in a book, if not literally, then figuratively at least.  All of my reading is done with audio books. I have a fairly broad range of interests from historical fiction to mystery and adventure and well-told biographies and autobiographies. On occasion, I will also listen to a book on the subject of blindness and vision loss.

People who are blind or who have encountered other special circumstances in their lives often want to share their experiences with others and the printed word is a good medium.  I know this because, wouldn’t you know it; I am one of those people myself.  However, as a general rule of thumb I am fairly cautious about books written by blind authors. Not everyone who is blind or visually impaired can write well although there are definitely exceptions to the rule. This past week I enjoyed two books where the focus was on blindness and vision impairment.

The first book was Keep In Touch by Graeme Edwards. Edwards was a journalist in the 1950’s and 1960’s. He worked first with newspapers and then in sound broadcasting. I found the book fascinating in two respects. The advances in technology over the past half century have been mind boggling to say the least. As I listened to Edwards’ first hand account of radio broadcasting, using a cassette player to tape interviews, splicing and editing tapes, I realized anew how computers and the digital age have radically improved daily life for people who are blind or who are otherwise print disabled.

While this aspect of life for a person with sight challenges has seen dramatic change, Edwards also referred to areas that have changed little. Using first person narrative, he wrote about the tendency of parents to be over protective of him as a blind child, his struggle for independence, the differing attitudes of the general public as he moved about in social circles and on public transport, the reaction of prospective employers when he outlined his qualifications as a journalist and radio broadcaster. I found the approach of this author to be practical and realistic and in spite of the fifty-year time gap I was able to identify with many of his thoughts and opinions.

The second book was No End In Sight: My Life As A Blind Iditarod Racer by Rachel Scdoris and Rick Steber. The book is a collaboration. Although at times I found the stories of the sled dog races themselves to be a bit repetitive, the descriptions of the conditioning and skills required by athletes who compete in the sport were fascinating. Scdoris tells of the bias and prejudice she encountered as a young, female, visually impaired musher. In particular she writes about her uphill battle with Iditarod race officials when she applied to compete in the Iditarod, an international 1100 mile sled dog race held in Alaska.  Scdoris was legally blind and so wanted to have a visual interpreter accompany her on a snowmobile. Race officials saw this special accommodation as bending the race rules and initially denied her request.

I learned a lot about sled dog racing, but for me the best part of the book was in Chapter 2 when Scdoris describes her sight.  Scdoris is legally blind but not completely without sight. She does an excellent job of describing how she sees as someone who is visually impaired. I was especially interested in her descriptions because personally I often find it difficult to explain to others just what it is that I see and what I am unable to see. When I finished reading No End In Sight, I checked out Rachel Scdoris on her website.

Both Keep In Touch and No End In Sight  are available through the CNIB Library Services.

June 12 - Hole In One

The other day I had an email from my friend, Judy. She had some exciting news. At a recent golf tournament, Judy had shot a hole in one. A hole in one is a worthy accomplishment for any golfer, but let me tell you why this news is doubly exciting.

Judy is legally blind. She has always had low vision but she hasn’t allowed this to hold her back. It was Judy’s involvement in the sporting world of blind golf that first brought her to my attention.  Lyle and I drove to Saskatchewan to meet Judy and her husband Ray and to talk more about her favourite game.  You can read more about Judy in Chapter 3 of my book, Out of Sight.

After I read Judy’s email, I asked her if I could paraphrase it so that I could post it on this blog for you to read. I found her words both encouraging and inspiring.

Judy wrote, “The ultimate goal in golf is getting a hole in one, but it was something I thought that I would never accomplish. Yesterday, May 30 2013, I played in the Dr. Paul Bookhalter Memorial Golf Tournament presented by the Regina Lions Clubs to raise funds for CNIB.  I have been the Beat the Blind Gal at this golf tournament for a number of years. I stay on the one fairway and as each group of golfers comes through they try to beat my shot. Some even buy extra tickets to try to do so.

Yesterday at the Tor Hill Golf Course I was on #7 East Nine.  When the fifth group of golfers came through, Ray lined up my shot for me.  My club hit the ball, I could tell by the sound that it was a good shot.  Ray watched the ball fly up the fairway and told me that the ball had gone in the hole. At first I thought he was teasing until the other four golfers came running over to congratulate me.  Now half of the award goes to Ray for lining up my shot and the other half goes to me for hitting the ball perfectly. Ray told me that the ball just hit the flagpole and dropped down into the hole. I was exhilarated. There was no other feeling like it. I had made my first hole in one.”

Judy is still riding on a high and I am still feeling excited for her. As she wrote, a hole in one is the ultimate goal for any golfer, but when that golfer is unable to see the ball once it has left the tee, well...that is truly amazing!

Well done, Judy, and congratulations to Ray as well.

June 8 - Flying Home

Because we have family living on both sides of the Pacific, Lyle and I have experienced our fair share of air travel. This has given us an opportunity to make certain comparisons between airlines and the attention given by flight attendants to blind and partially sighted passengers. Over the years, I have experienced the full range of attention. At one end of the continuum I have been totally ignored and on the other end I have been overwhelmed by overly solicitous attention given to someone who is viewed as being completely helpless. I am unhappy with both situations but the Air Canada flight back home from Sydney to Vancouver struck a perfect middle ground for me

Lyle and I preboarded before the crush of the rest of the passengers headed down the jetway and into the aisle of the aircraft.  Most airlines offer this preboarding service and I recommend it to anyone who might need that little bit of extra time to get settled. Preboarding also gave the waiting flight attendants a chance to address any special needs I might have. On Monday’s flight, I was offered a Braille safety card, the exits and oxygen masks were identified for me and I was shown the location of the toilets – an important feature on a long flight!  Of course, all this should be standard, but it doesn’t always happen.

During the trans-Pacific flight, members of the cabin crew often make their way back and forth along the aisles, handing out headphones, customs cards, duty free service, drink service and meals. My eyes can’t focus quickly enough to identify which of the shapes passing by my seat are crew and which are passengers. On Monday’s flight I was impressed by the fact that I knew when any of the flight attendants was addressing me personally. The crew member would either touch my arm before speaking or bend her head so that her voice was right in front of me. This was all done in a very unobtrusive. way and there was nothing to signal to any of the other passengers that I was different.  When the meals were served, the flight attendant who handed me my tray told me exactly what was in front of me describing it on the clock face. I really appreciated the courtesy that was extended to me during the flight.  

I only wish that I would encounter the same treatment on all flights. On the next short leg between Vancouver and Edmonton, there was no safety briefing and although I walked on board using my white cane, I was ignored until our arrival in Edmonton. As I went to leave the plane, the flight attendant uttered a surprised “Whoops! Watch your step.”

Now for one more comment about the long flight and this has nothing to do with sight or white canes. When we left Sydney, the captain announced that the flight would be thirteen hours and thirty-six minutes flying time. When we arrived in Vancouver, the clocked time was thirteen hours, thirty-six minutes and eleven seconds. That’s pretty amazing flying and absolutely amazing computerized aircraft technology. You can’t get more precise than that!

June 2 - The Fall

In a split second, from vertical to horizontal, I fell.  It was over in a second.  One minute I was walking along.  The next minute I was lying face down on the wet grass.  It was not my best moment!  Perversely, my first thought was that I hoped the neighbours weren’t watching me from their kitchen window.  My second thought was that I ached all over.  My third thought, and this likely should have been my first, was that I hoped no bones were broken.  I had definitely jarred every bone in my body and would likely be bruised, but that was all.

Lyle and I were loading our car, getting ready for the trip to Sydney.  I was helping.  The ten or so steps from the back door to the car were ones I had taken many times in the four weeks we have been here.  This time I was not using my cane, I was thinking of other things, and I tripped over a post in the yard that has been there ever since our arrival.  Tripping over objects we cannot see is a challenge for many people with little or no sight.  I think that many of my friends who are blind or partially sighted have experienced at least one fall.  Thinking back over the past months, I have spoken with two friends who have suffered broken bones because of a trip and subsequent fall.

As for me, I have tripped and fallen several times over the past years but fortunately these falls have never resulted in a broken bone.  They have all occurred when I have been in a hurry and either not using my cane or using it but without proper care and attention.  Falling is a definite reminder to myself to slow down and use my head as well as my cane!

Today I am sore but I have basically recovered from yesterday’s incident. This could have been a disastrous way to start a long plane ride home.  There is no picture to accompany this post.  Lyle was not quick enough to grab the camera before he helped me up from the ground.

June 1 - Walking in the Sunshine

The past few days on the Central Coast of New South Wales have been amazing with blue sky and sunshine.  Lyle and I have spent most of our waking hours outside enjoying the mild May temperatures. The Central Coast that I am writing about is an area of coastline about an hour’s drive north of Sydney and it is a perfect place to be.  In summer, the temperatures seem to be a few degrees cooler than in the city itself, and in winter it definitely feels a little warmer than the cold of the city streets.

Yesterday, my sister Jill, Lyle and I decided to do a bit of exploring and to try some new walks. We headed out to the beach at Ettalong.  Don’t you love that name!  When we arrived, it was low tide and the receding waves had revealed an expanse of flat, firm sand that was just perfect for walking.  In places like this, I often imagine that I can see more than I actually do.  With the golden sand underfoot and the blue of the waves on my right, I pointed out to Lyle and Jill the large clumps of seaweed that I "could see” in front of us.  My perfectly sighted companions laughed.  The seaweed I could “see” was actually a cluster of rocks.

Our next stop was Ettalong Lookout, a high point on the cliff to the south. The lookout itself was accessible by a bush trail and I had no illusions about my sight on this walk. The ground was uneven and rocky in places and at other times low branches spread over the trail at the same level as my head and shoulders.  Still, for anyone with even partial sight, the walk was worth it. The view back over Ettalong Beach was spectacular and we could also look down to the next little beach over the cliff. Pearl Beach looked as if it belonged on a postcard – sheltered in a small bay and surrounded by bushland. That was our next walk and we luxuriated in the warmth of the afternoon sun as we made our way to the rock pool at the south end of the beach.

It was a great day and I would recommend this area of coastline to anyone.  The first picture shows the view of Pearl Beach taken from Ettalong Lookout, and the second picture shows Jill and me hanging from one of the branches along the trail. 

Jill and Sue at Ettalong Lookout

Jill and Sue on trail