Antisocial introverts
After days off the grid, we rolled back into civilization through Kaslo — a picture-perfect tourist town perched on the west shore of Kootenay Lake. Civilization meant three things: groceries, a campground, and hot showers. We grabbed all three with zero guilt before treating ourselves to dinner in town. Big mistake. Because only after dinner did we discover the local butcher/hot-dog shop which is just what my gut wanted. So, like rational adults, we hung around until it opened the next morning and corrected our error. Hotdogs and poutine for lunch? No regrets.
From Kaslo, my next “must-drive” road was calling: Wilson Creek Road. It climbs east, snakes past a series of lakes, and in true Goldilocks fashion we tested each one. Beaver Lake? Swarmed with mosquitoes that practically had admission tickets waiting for us. Little Wilson Lake? Pretty, but no spark. Wilson Lake itself? Just right. At the southwest corner we found a wide-open perch with all the essentials: a sweeping view, plenty of solar, and enough Starlink signal to feel smug about our off-grid life. It became home for a few days of lakeside bliss.
We originally planned to continue north along Wilson Creek Road, but three separate locals waved us off. “Don’t do it,” they said. “Terrible condition,” they said. I eventually caved. Sometimes stubbornness isn’t worth shredded tires and broken suspension. Turning back did give us a bonus though: Wilson Creek Falls, which we had cluelessly blown right past on the way up.
Back on the highway, we skirted Arrow Lake until Kerri, true to form, spotted yet another dirt road. This one followed a creek deep into the mountains until we hit Halfway Hotsprings. The campground was packed, of course. But for the same price as a site we could park in the day-use lot. Then the camp host, sensing our inner introverts, whispered of a “secret” parking nook above the overflow area. Challenge accepted. After a quick recon, I backed Marcel into position (like a Pro I might add), leaving us perched antisocially above the rest of the campers like a van-life gargoyle.
That evening we hiked down to the springs. They were steamy, relaxing, and crowded with the entire population of British Columbia. We soaked until our introvert batteries flashed red, then trudged back uphill to our quiet perch, perfectly happy to let the rest of the world bubble away below us.
