September 19 - Lost at Sea

In my last post, I wrote how I became lost in a campground. Today’s story is about Lyle, with a postscript that includes a lesson for me.

The Sunshine Coast is connected to the mainland by the BC Ferry system. By Thursday, Lyle and I had already taken several ferry trips and I was feeling comfortable enough to leave my white cane in the car for the forty minute trip between Langdale and Horseshoe Bay. We climbed the fifteen stairs from the car deck to the main deck and then another fifteen stairs to the sun deck. It was a beautiful day but Lyle decided that he should return to the car, get our iPad and check email. He left me enjoying the sun and the cool breeze which drifted across the water.

Lyle returned down the two flights of stairs, retrieved the iPad and meandered around the ship looking for a good Internet connection. He became engrossed in his task and it was a surprise when he heard the loudspeaker announcement that the ship would soon be docking and passengers were to return to their vehicles.  Lyle shut down the computer and hurried back to the sun deck.  Other passengers were making their way downstairs, but there was no sign of me.  He wondered if I had decided to go to the ladies washroom, so he made his way there and waited outside the door. I didn’t come out.  Perhaps, he thought, I might have asked someone to assist me back to the car deck, so he rushed back to our vehicle.  I wasn’t there either.  By now he was getting worried.  He was sure that I was lost and he decided that he should contact one of the crew.

Now, you might be wondering what I was doing while all this was going on.  Naturally, I had no idea of Lyle’s frantic search.  Where was I? Well, I was precisely where Lyle had left me.  Our arrangement should we ever become separated, is that I should stay put, and Lyle should find me.  Even when the other passengers left the sun deck and I was there alone, I remained exactly where I was.  It was not until I heard another loudspeaker announcement that I decided to move.

The loudspeaker called my name and asked that I make myself known to any crew member.  By this time, not only were there no passengers on the sun deck, there were no crew members either.  There was nobody.  I knew that I had to make a move.  I found the door to the stairs, glad that I had counted them on the way up, and made my way to the main deck.  There was still nobody in my range of vision so I began calling out.

“It’s me,” I  shouted.  “Can anyone hear me?  Are there any crew about who can hear me?”

The story does have a happy ending.  One of the crew heard me, and took me to where Lyle was waiting with one of the stewards.  Just in time, as it turned out.  Lyle had just been informed that he would need to move the car without me and that there would then be a search for me and I would be brought off as a foot passenger.  Lyle and I made it back to the car deck just as the line of vehicles began to move.

So, here is the explanation. The large BC Ferry was of a mirror image design back and front.  Lyle left me   on a series of benches in front of a large ship’s funnel. He didn’t realize that at the other end of the ship there was also a series of benches in front of a large funnel.  In his meanderings to find the Internet connection, he had become disoriented, confusing the back of the ship with the front.

Now for the postscript.  When Lyle went to report my mysterious disappearance to the crew, he had to say that I was blind but that I wasn’t using my white cane.  For me, the lesson was the same.  When we were separated, I didn’t have my cane with me.  If I had, I am sure that my trip down the stairs might have been a lot less panicky. Possibly too, I might have been easier to spot when people were looking for me.  Needless to say, there are no pictures with this post.

September 16 - Tenting

During the week that Lyle and I spent on the Sunshine Coast, the weather was perfect.  It was great weather for camping and Lyle and I had decided to tent.  We both enjoy the tenting experience but we are also the first to admit that we are fair weather campers.  This past week, the weather could not have been better.

One night as we sat around our campfire, Lyle and I began reminiscing about some of our more memorable tenting experiences. We remembered the tenting trip we had taken on the way back to Alberta after visiting our daughter in Ontario. Of the eight nights we spent in our tent, there was rain on every one of them. On one night we were caught on the edge of a tornado. On another night there was a massive thunder and lightning storm breaking a drought of the previous forty days.

Still, we have had many good times and we continue to tent. Nevertheless, for me there are also some sight challenges. Usually the biggest difficulty is finding my way from our own campsite to and from the comfort station or outhouse.  I can think of one night in particular that stands out in this regard.

We had arrived at our campground late and were assigned the last available site.  It was the least desirable of all the sites for many reasons, one of which was the distance from the comfort station. Before we tucked into our sleeping bags, Lyle and I practiced the route from tent to comfort station just in case I needed to get up during the night. As it turned out, this was indeed what happened.

Around five in the morning I crept out of the tent in the predawn light. It was easy enough to find my way downhill to the well-lit washroom block but coming back to our little tent in the semi dark was a different story.  Not only that, unknowingly I had exited the building using a different door from the one where Lyle and I had practiced and counted my steps the night before.

In the early morning hours, I hadn’t gone far when I realized I was lost. Of course, the smart thing to do would have been to retrace my steps immediately.  I didn’t and continued to become more and more disoriented.  It would have made no difference whether or not I had been using my white cane. A cane only works if you have some idea of where you are going.  In addition, at five in the morning, there was nobody around to see the cane and so assist me with directions.

The story does have a happy ending.  Eventually, after many minutes of aimless wandering, I found my way back to the comfort station and tried again, this time from the appropriate exit door.  I counted my steps and almost by accident spotted the bright orange tarp at our camp site and crawled back into the tent. I might add that when the first half hour had gone by, Lyle did miss me. The problem as he later explained it was that although he knew I had been gone longer than I should have been, he had no idea of where to begin looking for me.

I suppose that in a way, someone who can see could have a similar misadventure. The difficulty for someone who is blind or who has limited sight is that we are unable to see the print markers and other directional signs that sighted people are able to use for a reference.

The picture below shows me kneeling beside our tent where we camped on the Sunshine Coast. I didn’t get lost here, but I was hoping that there wouldn’t be a bear on the track between our tent and the shower block. That’s another thing that I might not be able to see in time! 

Sue in front of her tent

September 14 - The Sunshine Coast

For the past few days Lyle and I have been travelling on the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia. The weather has been perfect and I thoroughly recommend this coastline as a holiday destination.

On Sunday and Monday we travelled both by road and BC Ferries to Mile Zero of Highway 101 to the picturesque village of Lund. The village was originally settled by two brothers from Sweden and at first was only accessible by water. We took the ferry from Vancouver’s Horseshoe Bay, drove past Gibson and Sechelt to Earl’s Cove where we took another ferry to Saltery Bay. From there, the highway leads through a forested region into Powell River and then on to Lund.

Of course, you might wonder what took us to this particular spot. It is definitely isolated.  Lyle and I are fortunate to have a friend who lives in Lund for a good portion of the year. Ron was a member of our White Cane Support Group in Alberta and we have kept in touch. Because Ron is also visually impaired, he and I share an understanding of what it is like to be a tourist who is visually challenged.

People with little or no sight can still take enjoyment from being a tourist. For instance, in Lund, although I couldn’t see the mountains across the bay, I could hear the waves rippling onto the rocks. I could hear the seagulls splashing in the fresh water of the creek and the occasional barking snort of a seal in the water. Together, Lyle, Ron and I enjoyed coffee and cinnamon buns while we sat outside in the sunshine at Nancy’s Bakery. On the previous evening we had had a great seafood meal at the Boardwalk Restaurant. Because we were the last to leave, the staff gave us each a little key chain flashlight to find our way back home in the dark. I think that the idea was that we could also find our way back to the restaurant again on another occasion. Nevertheless, the light from the flashlight was tiny and I was glad I had my cane with me.

The pictures below show just a snippet of life in this peaceful village.  In the first picture I am standing beside Ron in front of the old hotel near the Mile Zero marker. In the second picture we are standing on the boardwalk which leads around the harbour area. Lyle took this one from the top of a steep stairway which we had clambered down to reach the water. Fortunately the stairs had rails on both sides. The last picture is a view of the many small boats in the harbour. I liked Lund for many reasons, and so did Ron. I think that one of the reasons for its appeal was that it was so easily accessible to us as pedestrians.  

Ron and Sue in front of hotel

 

Sue and Ron on the boardwalk

 

Lund harbour

September 8 - Volunteers

Volunteers are the backbone of many charitable organizations, and our local support group is no exception to this rule of thumb. We are only a small group, but this past week ten of our members, ranging in age from 22 to 92, hosted a table in the local grocery store and also at the Farmers Market. Our aim was to promote an awareness of people with visual challenges, to distribute literature from CNIB about various eye conditions, and to raise funds for our own group.  Our ten volunteers took turns sitting at the table over the two days.

During the year, our support group holds monthly meetings with a variety of activities. Some of these are purely social, but at other meetings we invite a guest speaker to address us on a topic of interest. We try to keep ourselves up to date on current research in the area of vision health and we like to hear about any advances in technology that might benefit someone with a sight challenge.  We share ideas and encourage one another. The sharing of this verbal information is important because only a few of our group are able to see print.

One of the difficulties associated with our group meetings is the inability of the members to get to the meetings. The town where I live is small and there is no public transportation system.  Instead there is a van which transports handicapped people.  Initially there was no provision for visually impaired passengers who did not use wheelchairs or walkers.  Special permission from the board of the wheelchair van was needed so that visually impaired passengers who did not use these mobility devices could also use the van.  Looking back, it was a minor problem.  Our present challenge is paying for the use of the van.  Currently our group is addressing this cost by asking for donations from the community and by holding special fund raising events like the one of this past week.

Volunteers are passionate, enthusiastic, and generous with their time and talents. Our support groups, the organizations with which they are associated, and indeed the community at large is richer for their commitment.

The photo below shows four of our local vision loss support group. We are all wearing CNIB t-shirts and standing behind a display table. I am on the left standing behind Shirley, and on the right of the photo Lynn is standing behind Evelyn. 

Shirley, Sue, Lynn, and Evelyn

September 4 - Ten Thousand

Wow! I have just checked out the blog site and I see that the count of page views is past the ten thousand mark. How amazing! Yes, ten thousand. If you want to check this out yourself, you need to scroll down beneath the photo of me.

The ten thousand number has also given me cause for reflection. I remember that when I first started thinking about the White Cane Connections project I probably spent at least a month or so trying to think of a name for my project. Then it was a case of planning and getting started. When my son-in-law suggested that I might want to record the walks on a blog site, I wasn’t sure. I’m not a particularly technical person but Andrew said that he would help me through. He has done just that and has faithfully posted all my writings.

When the number of page views on the blog reached one hundred, I was elated. I also remember watching the count creep up to one thousand. It was around that time that Andrew discovered the location of some of the readers of the blog. For instance, I know now that there are readers not only in Canada, but in the United States, Australia, Barbados, England and other parts of Europe, and even Iceland.

While I am thrilled that the White Cane Journey has so many followers, I am also pleased that the project has brought a certain awareness to the challenges encountered by people who are blind or partially sighted. I know for a fact that not everyone who reads the blog has a vision impairment and I am happy to know that there are people who are willing to learn more about this different way of life.

So, at this significant 10,000 milestone, I want to thank everyone who has checked in and supported the White Cane Walks. Thank you for being part of the project, and for your encouragement and support.

August 25 - Big Sky Country

This past week, Lyle and I have been in Montana, the state affectionately and also appropriately known as Big Sky Country. Montana lives up to the description. On the drive south of the Alberta border to Great Falls, the high flat prairie grassland reveals a one hundred eighty degree vista of blue above. I can’t actually see the distant horizon, but I can tell that there is a distinction between land and sky.

Lyle and I went shopping in Great Falls. This is not my favourite activity. The goods on the shelves are a blur and I need to rely on Lyle to find any items I have on my list. I remember when my sight first changed that Lyle was quite hesitant about checking prices and sizes in the women’s lingerie departments. These days, he shows not a flicker of embarrassment, and turns over labels of the most delicate items in order to get the shopping done as quickly as possible.

It was while we were in Great Falls that a fellow shopper stopped with a friendly hello. It was obvious that he knew us and I heard Lyle greet the man in return. Because I can’t see faces, recognition on my part was non-existent. I was just trying to figure out whom we might possibly know in the city, when our friend identified himself as Theo’s father. Do you remember Theo from last week’s walk in Hanna? The meeting was unexpected and so it was really helpful when Theo’s father identified himself. I am always pleased when anyone begins a conversation with me by saying who they are. Really, it’s almost a matter of courtesy to do this when you know that the other person can’t see the face and is relying on the sound of the voice alone to figure out who they might be talking to. Theo’s father understood this.

From Great Falls Lyle and I continued on to Helena, Montana’s capital city.   We wanted to take the tourist trolley ride which began near the State Capitol Building. However, we were in the motor home and needed to park several blocks away. This was when I noticed the audible traffic signals at the three different intersections. When I first pressed the pedestrian button, I was instructed to “Wait. Wait.”  When the traffic stopped, the signal then announced the number of the avenue before telling me that I could cross. The only other difference I noticed was the colour of the bubbled patches that led from the sidewalk to the road itself. Instead of the bright yellow which I find relatively easy to spot, the few that I noticed in Helena were rose. I thought it was an interesting choice of colour.

The drive between Great Falls and Helena was very picturesque. We took the Old US 91 secondary highway for part of the way and stopped by the Missouri River for a picnic lunch. Although the following photo has nothing to do with white canes, I am including it here because it was such a lovely area.  In the picture, I am standing beside the river and the Tower Rock Mountain is in the background. 

Sue beside the Missouri River with Tower Rock Mountain in the background