Burgoyne Bay

Here's the Internet bakery in Fulford where I graded papers, checked mid-term exams, and updated the blog. The cob oven and walls reminded us of Fireworks in Corvallis. We enjoyed chatting with the owner, Alan Golden, about some mutual favorite books and authors. He had a full selection of Terry Tempest Williams books, among others.
Fair winds blew us out of Fulford and around the southern tip of Salt Spring, through Sansum Narrows, to another peaceful bay we'd never visited before. Burgoyne is filled with mostly local boats, docks and various flotsam, many of which seem to be occupied on a more or less permanent basis. Mt. Maxwell looms overhead, capped by a dramatic granite cliff. We watched a group of otters roughhousing between the boats, until they swam over to an enormous dead cedar tree, toppled into the saltchuck. Later we rowed over to the government wharf and marveled at the huge arbutus (madrone) looming overhead. We were delighted to find that the undeveloped shoreline of the bay has recently been protected as a provincial park. We followed a peaceful old road through the forest and around to the tidal flats at the head of the bay.