Friday, 16 August 2013

Non-Hippy leading Hippies in Rainbow Group

Michael Goodliffee from Facebook

Vancouver’s Michael Goodliffe, one of the de facto leaders of the World Rainbow group that has recently been in the news as the hippies kicked out of their gathering place in Raft Cove Provincial Park on the northwest coast of Vancouver Island, does not fit the granola stereotype.

Goodliffe, 43, is an author, he is highly educated, having attended UBC in various departments over the last ten years, and describes himself as a pragmatic realist. Goodliffe said all walks of life are represented at the gatherings including lawyers, teachers and nurses. Part of the reason the community can sustain itself, according to Goodliffe, is that there are so many members with various talents.

Goodliffe is helping the World Rainbow Family of Living Light move to a more suitable location at Kennedy Lake on the west coast of the Island after the provincial government closed Cove park, over what a press release from the Ministry of Environment calls a “risk to public health and safety, the protection of the natural environment and the preservation of park value.”

Goodliffe said media reports of the gathering moving to the Slocan Valley are incorrect.

Another statement from the Ministry of Environment said authorities were not aware of the group’s next location but that they are “monitoring campsites and recreation trails in the surrounding area.”

Goodliffe said there are at least 12 Vancouverites who are currently preparing to vacate the Cove location and he thinks “there will be hundreds as soon as the Rainbow Beach [Kennedy Lake] location goes public.”

Because the goals of the group are not easy to categorize, “it is easy to write [us] off,” said Goodliffe. The Rainbow gatherings, which began as yearly get-togethers in the early 1970s, are about a complete “paradigm shift” he said. Each month-long gathering is meant to serve as an example to the larger society of how to live without money and electricity or a centralized authority. “Lots of lessons to be learned,” he said.

In terms of what goes on at the gathering Goodliffe said members break off in casual groups and discuss ideas for improving the world. There is general agreement that the capitalist “economy is not sustainable,” said Goodliffe.

According to Goodliffe, 40 per cent of people in the group have no money and survive by going from one gathering to the next, while 60 per cent have sources of income and arrive with an excess of food and items to share.

He said the group welcomes absolutely everyone no matter their situation and members of the group work to take care of each other. When Goodliffe spoke with the Courier he said he was in Vancouver to accompany a young woman from the Cove who had planned to hitch hike alone to the mainland. He said he didn’t want to see her be in a vulnerable position so accompanied her. He said this type of social responsibility and integrity is central to the group’s beliefs.

Goodliffe hopes all of the Rainbow Family will be settled into the new Kennedy location by the weekend, “but the apex of the thing will be the full moon” Aug. 20 when the largest number of people are expected.


Sunday, 28 July 2013

Anti-Pope Day: a Q and A with Ethan Chow of The Centre for Inquiry

**The Centre for Inquiry has been circulating a petition they wish to present to the Senate to oppose Pope John Paul II Day.

What is Pope John Paul II Day? Well, recently Canada's House of Commons passed a bill (Bill C-266, sponsored by Wladyslaw Lizon Mississauga East—Cooksville) declaring April 2nd every year to be Pope John Paul II Day. For most, this event passed without any recognition, but for members of the Centre for Inquiry this was an offensive act that they want reversed. 

Ethan Chow is the Lower Mainland representative for the group. He was kind enough to answer some questions for me. His answers are here, unedited. I would love to know what you think about this petition and about the day itself. Please feel free to comment below this post or email me.

Q: Why does it personally bother you to have a Pope day? 

A: There are serious concerns to be had with appointing such an honorific on Pope John Paul II. The first is the child sexual abuse that occurred during his reign as Pope. Barbara Blaine, head of the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests (SNAP) group, points out, "In more than 25 years as the most powerful religious figure on the planet, John Paul II did almost nothing to safeguard kids." 

Pope John Paul II also took a strong stance against gay rights— he personally intervened to advise Jean Chretien against introducing legislation allowing same-sex marriages in Canada. We also shouldn't forget about his edicts against contraceptives and condoms, even when they were used to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS. 

If Canada is going to give an honorific to the Pope, what message will that send to gay Canadians who have struggled to gain the rights and freedoms that are accorded to all Canadians? What about the victims of sexual abuse that came at the hands of Catholic priests? What steps will the government of Canada take to also mention the abuses by the Catholic church that he ignored, discuss all the pedophile priests he protected, and perhaps give all the victims a forum to discuss exactly what happened to then under his tenure?

Q: How many signatures do you have on your petition now? 

A: Currently we have 3,361 signatures. Here's a link to the petition:

Q:What is next? What does the group hope to accomplish?

A: As the petition gains signatures and more people become aware of the controversies around this Pope, we hope that the government will reconsider what sort of message such an honorific sends to the people of Canada and the world.

**This interview is one in a series I have done with different leaders of different groups. I am neither endorsing nor condemning this group. I welcome all beliefs from our community to be expressed. This is a blog, not a newspaper. 

Thursday, 6 June 2013

Meet Emily Kerr—steel fabricator

This week, the Skills Canada National Competition -- a multi-trade and technology competition for students and apprentices from across the country --  is taking place in Vancouver.

Emily Kerr (photos from her collection)

Emily Kerr, from Abbotsford B.C,. is working on her first of a four year steel fabricating apprenticeship through Burnaby's British Columbia Institute of Technology. At 20 years old, she already has her future in her trade all hammered out.
"I want to take welding courses and eventually get my pressure tickets so I can work in camps in Alberta or Northern B.C. After a number of years in the trade I would love to take some project management courses and perhaps get into that. As it stands now I want to get a firm grasp of the trade and really develop my skills, " says Kerr.

Kerr's trades journey started in 2011 when she took Trades Discovery for Women at BCIT. She was soon offered an apprenticeship at a steel fabrication company. In April of this year she went back to school to continue her training.

Kerr says following a career path that has been more stereotypically male, is just a natural progression for her.

"Growing up I spent a lot of time on farms and out in the wilderness fishing, biking, riding horses and hiking. So, I definitely was always a bit of a Tomboy with a girly side," she says. Kerr still prefers to be outdoors and active.

Kerr taking aim.

Kerr with her animal friends.

Kerr says she also enjoys being 'girly' by dressing up, changing her hair colour and going out with friends.

Kerr, now a brunette, dressed to go out with friends.

"People are usually surprised to hear I am a fabricator until they see my hands," laughs Kerr.

When it comes to the gender divide, Kerr says women shouldn't shy away from the trades, but they should know what they are getting into.

"Any female can do it. With that being said, you can't be afraid to get dirty and work hard. It's a completely different pace than working any sort of retail or customer service job. You have to be strong and confident to keep up with the guys," she says.

Are you interested in the trades? Let us know your story.

Wednesday, 29 May 2013

Hands off the libraries council warned

Photo by MTSOfan

Libraries around the world are being shut or having their budgets severely cut, but according to Burnaby Coun. Nick Volkow, the lesson for this city is that every time there were cuts, those responsible were punished in the polls.

With books and reading on the decline, cash strapped cities have taken their austerity measures to libraries. City councils in England, Scotland and Wales have made severe cuts to their libraries. As a result, Volkow warned, those politicians involved were either de-listed by their parties or not voted back in.

"If you take a meat cleaver to the library budget, we will be paying the price at this table," said Volkow.

On this continent, Volkow pointed out, New York libraries are facing millions in cuts, which has sparked widespread protest.

Volkow was responding to the 2012 Burnaby Public Library Annual Report, which was tabled at council Monday night. The report highlighted the events and achievements of the city's libraries over the past year.

"Celebrating diversity and culture, learning for life and enhancing communities" informed the projects this past year, said BPL chair Sharon Freeman.

A speed-reads collection was launched in June of last year in response to the results of a survey, which suggested this was the most valued service of the library.

E-reader lending was also a big success this year, according to Freeman.

"We don't have to fundraise, except for one event a year, because of the support of  Burnaby council," said Coun. Anne Kang who sits on the library board. Kang spoke about camcorders and tripods now available for borrowing, which Freeman said was a way for the libraries to be a part of the new, more interactive, Internet age.

The library also embraced social media this year by being on Twitter and Facebook. Library websites are also available on mobile and tablet devices.

Mayor Derek Corrigan sang the praises of Burnaby libraries as, "one of the most inclusive institutions we have in our community."

The 2012 Annual Financial Plan for Burnaby shows library expenditures at just over $12-million or 3.2 per cent of all expenses for the city.

Do you still go to your local library? Why or why not? 

Saturday, 25 May 2013

Mountain man turned Dr. Doolittle—Rolly Giroux

Rolly Giroux.

Rolly Giroux says he once lived in the city and had a “normal” life. In fact, it sounds like an extraordinary life — engineering hand gliders in California. The  workaday life wasn’t for him though so, middle aged, he headed for B.C. and a quieter existence. He eventually took refuge in the mountains outside of Coalmont.

Local authorities turned a blind eye to Giroux’s forest encampment because he was an extra set of eyes and ears watching for fires and protecting logging equipment during the winter months.

Giroux was the type of guy who needed to be on his own and he, more than anyone else, knew it.

He carried on this reclusive lifestyle for 13 years until an accident ended it for him in March of 2008.

It was mid-day and the snow was starting to melt under the spring sun, creating small waterfalls over the rock face along the old logging road. Giroux was on his snowmobile heading to his cabin with firewood for the coming week.

Suddenly, he heard a huge bang, a rumble — he felt snow and trees falling from the sky. Then he was in motion. He was swept up, turning and twisting, in a blanket of mud, rocks, sticks and snow. Then all went dark.

When he opened his eyes the stars were out. He was cold and wet and had no idea how much time had passed. There was a hard metal sheet pushing against the top of his head. He realized it was his sled. He somehow gathered the strength to push it off. He heard it slide its way down the hill and sploosh into the creek far below.

He stayed still, thinking, for what seemed like days, but may have been hours. It occurred to him people must be searching for him. He had always told locals in town that if they didn’t hear from him on his radio phone for over 48 hours then something was wrong and to come looking.

Even still, he decided as dark turned to light that he needed to move or he might die. He flipped onto his stomach and used the rifle he always carried with him to push himself into a half-standing position. He was aware that his body wasn’t working like it should— he couldn’t stand upright— but strangely he felt no pain beyond an all over ache.

He used the rifle like a walking stick and started to walk-crawl. In his mind he could picture his cabin about six kilometers away and imagined he would make it home if he stopped a few times along the way to rest and warm up.


He managed to hobble forward for 100 yards before his body refused to continue. His survival instinct kicked in as he gathered tree branches and leaves. He held his breath as he rummaged through his down-filled jacket. He exhaled with relief when his fingers found his pack of smokes with a matchbook tucked inside. He struck match after match, but the wet brush refused to light. He attempted to set two more fires along the trail, but it was futile. He tried to keep moving, but then, he lost consciousness.

Meanwhile, an RCMP helicopter was circling overhead looking for Giroux. Rescuers soon spotted the injured man—naked, in the fetal position with his buttocks in the air and his head stuck deep in the snow.

Twenty to 50 per cent of hypothermia deaths show evidence of paradoxical undressing. This stripping off all clothing can happen with moderate to severe hypothermia. One explanation for this is the heat regulating part of the brain gets confused, making the person feel hot. Finding Giroux with his head in the snow can also be explained as terminal burrowing which is a self-protective behaviour in the final stage of hypothermia.

Giroux would eventually learn he had broken his ribs, his back and both legs. He would never hear out of his left ear or see out of his right eye the same again. Doctors told him he would have to stay in hospital for six months and would never walk again. He left in three months permanently disabled, but able to walk without assistance. He tried going up to the mountains again shortly after his return, but it is physically too hard on him now.

On top of the trauma from the accident he has a bad heart. He had a pacemaker put in in the early 1990s, but his heart is still weak.

Rolly with his latest friend Poco.

“The doc says I should be dead,” he says, “but I just keep going. My animals keep me going."

He now lives on the edge of Coalmont  in a trailer with animal enclosures and pens in his front yard. He has set up a makeshift animal sanctuary.

Locals agree the man has a gift with animals of all kinds.

There is a scruffy boar named Charlie, who he has taken to the Coalmont hotel pub more than a few times, and a goat named Stella who greets guests with a curious cock of her head. A rambunctious brown and black border collie named Midge runs in circles around Giroux until the man sends him to the open field across from his cabin with a growl of “get cows” which sends the dog barking and running at full speed. There are also chickens and rabbits, which are well taken care of until they end up in a pot.

The goat, Stella, seems to be Giroux’s favourite. She even follows him into the house.

“She’s my baby,” says Giroux.

An abandoned deer was found in the yard of a Princeton resident. Word spread and the deer ended up with Giroux. He spent months raising it, including bottle-feeding it, until it was strong enough to leave.

In spite of his gentle nature with animals, Giroux is still rough around the edges.  He would rather be in the bush where he didn't have to deal with people much at all. His speech is peppered with swear words and sayings long considered inappropriate. “Why would I need a woman for anything? I have a goat,” he says. He gets really riled up when the conversation turns to local bylaw or RCMP officers who he says he will "put in the ground" if they get in his way. Like many in this pioneering town, he does things his own way and does not like being told what to do.

Local residents seem to have a fondness for Giroux though and good-naturedly call him "grumpy". He wholeheartedly agrees with this assessment. His animals however, think he is a lifesaver.

Monday, 20 May 2013

Coalmont: a BC town that refuses to die **


“The last time you were here, was that before I died? Or after?” asks Bob Sterne as he checks a guest into his three-room Mozy-on-Inn hotel. The registration desk is in the tidy kitchen of his 112-year-old cabin that he named “Fred” — it seems many of the buildings here have some sort of nickname.

Fred stands for Freaking Ridiculous Economic Disaster. When Sterne and wife Diane bought the place it was filthy, covered in graffiti and had a bullet hole in its front window. The back wall was black with soot because somebody had tried to burn it down. Much love and care and a whole lot of sweat transformed the near-derelict structure into the Sterne’s home, and the hotel’s office.

“The difficult we do immediately, the impossible takes slightly longer,” says Sterne. His wife says it is his favourite saying.

Bob Sterne, who is in his sixties, looks like a lumberjack — strong and hard to knock off his feet. He exudes a reserved warmth.

“Shut the door. Don’t mind Molly,” he says as his brown lab laps at guests’ feet.

The sturdy Sterne was knocked off his feet on December 30, 2011 as he cleared a new dump of wet snow off his driveway. Suddenly he went down.
Neighbour Maurice Chartrand and his two sons heard a thud and came running. Sterne had no vital signs.

Diane Sterne, called 911 and together she and the men managed to get Sterne’s heart beating again. It took the ambulance 45 minutes to get to them.

Another neighbour heard the call for an ambulance on his scanner — most people in Coalmont have one ear to their scanner at all times — and came out to give Diane Sterne a ride to the hospital behind the ambulance.

Halfway to Princeton, the ambulance stopped and the doors flew open. “I expected to see them shocking him again, but nope, Bob had come-to and was beating up the attendants,” recalls Sterne. They had to tie him down to make the rest of the trip. Once at the hospital, doctors were blown away that he survived — and luckily without brain damage.

Main Street of Coalmont in winter.

The Sternes’ laid-back attitude about Bob’s near death experience and refusal to die are symbolic of the phoenix like town they have lived in for over 12 years. Coalmont B.C. is tucked away in the Tulameen Rivervalley, four hours east of Vancouver and a half hour from Princeton.

One of the first buildings at the entrance to Coalmont.

The town is a character as strong as the eccentric men and women who inhabit it and like them, the town has baggage, is a little worse-for-wear and has been written off more than a few times. But the town, like Bob Sterne, refuses to die.

Gold prospectors originally settled the area — in fact there is still a population of people who pan for gold in Granite Creek. The easy access, get-rich-quick gold, however, dried up at the turn of the century and many left. A few prospectors stayed, hoping to catch the next opportunity for fortune.

In 1901 the first official record of coal was made in the area. By 1908 the Columbia Coal and Coke Company was making a serious go of mining the black gold. They needed offices and residences and so bought the land that would become the town of Coalmont.

One of the original buildings still standing in Coalmont.

The town grew quickly to accommodate the mining workforce. By 1911 a hotel, restaurants, stores and homes had sprung up. Business owners predicted the town would grow to 10,000 to support the mining of what was said to be a mountain of coal.

Men in large numbers flooded the town in search of fortune and a fresh start and that is what made Coalmont a town of bachelors, as it mostly still is today.

Entrance sign.

There are two signs at the entrance to Coalmont, originally erected by famous local Walt Smart — who was born to Coalmont pioneers. One sign gives the vital statistics of the town’s climate and terrain. The other, below a skeleton and cross symbol, in black lettering on white plywood, reads:

Entrance sign.

“Warning: To all doorstepsalesmen [sic] — especially those selling magazines, encyclopedias and fireballs, your safe passage is not guaranteed in this village. Women beware! There is a predominance of bachelors living here.”

This rebellion, rough edge and survival instinct remains palpable in Coalmont. The 100 people who live there are different. They get by however they have to. They don’t much like being told what to do and they rely on each other.

“The folk who live here don’t bend to modern day fashions and fancy gizmos. If something breaks, they try to fix it and if a neighbour needs a hand, they are always there with two,” says Diane Sterne in her book about the history of the area, White Gold, Black Diamonds.

Ole Juul's house and the General Store.

Right past the entrance signs is the first building in the town, the square wooden General Store, which has stood in its spot for more than100 years. It was the family home of sign maker Walt Smart and is now home to the unofficial mayor of Coalmont, Ole Juul.

Juul is another Coalmont character in a rather rich cast. Juul, who describes himself as a hippie, opens the door to his historic home with welcoming smile enthusiastic hello. At 65 he looks younger than his age. His grey hair is pulled back into a youthful ponytail and he wears a baggy wool sweater hanging down over his khakis.

While the folks in Coalmont look to Juul as the town’s sage, the place is governed officially by the Regional District of Okanagan Similkameen, which is divided into eight areas A to H. Coalmont is area H and is the largest of the districts.

The locals resent the taxes they have to pay and feel their regional district masters do not respect them. “Princeton seems to think of us as ‘rural Princeton’ and that is very wrong,” says Juul. “These areas, came along completely independently of Princeton, and have their own history. This is one of the things which I want to keep in the forefront in our area.”

Side of Ole Juul's house.
Juul’s historic house at the entrance to the town was built by eccentric bachelor Isaac McTavish who saw an opportunity to get in on the ground floor of the booming new town. One of the most famous stories about McTavish is that he had a pet black bear tied up outside the store that people used to come by to visit.

The bear got out one Sunday and went through the town eating out all the iceboxes and even broke open bottles and drank the beer at the government beer cache. He ended his journey by eating out of the basement food stash at the Coalmont Hotel. Apparently when McTavish went to retrieve his bear, the animal good-naturedly took to his collar and chain and was led home.

The building was sold several times after McTavish and operated as a store until 1972. It was not well maintained and fell into disrepair. Juul tells of its extension, a second bedroom, pulling down the second floor of the main house. Walt Smart, gave it a “Coalmont style fix” and attached a chain around the extension and winched it back up, thus relieving the pressure on the main house.

Inside today, the historic house smells of roasting coffee. Jazz plays softly in the background. Juul laughs easily among his treasures. Stacks of electronics, books, music notes, records and antique suitcases fill the mainfloor to above the original windows.

Ole Juul's basement of treasures.
Up the original wooden stairs a new world awaits. Surprisingly feminine in comparison to the downstairs, each room in the maze is neatly laid out. Colourful glass jars and dainty tea cups adorn the windows.

The kitchen has a worn antique oak island with the morning’s bread and cheese laid out. An antique stove sits in the corner. Juul’s says he heats his house with between five and six cords of wood a year, depending on how cold it gets. He heats up a coffee pot on a camping element hooked up to a 20-pound propane tank on the floor.

Juul has done all the repairs on the house himself. A jack-knife carpenter, Juul’s asserts, “I do stuff my own way.”

Ole Juul in his kitchen.

The deep brown, original, wooden floors creek with each step. The living room has a sofa, and a few antique leather chairs. “I like old stuff,” he says with a shrug.

An old pewter flute, a remnant of Juul’s past as a jazz musician, hangs beside a shelf of antique dolls, one his grandmother’s from the mid 1800s. Juul proudly calls himself a ‘Coalmontian’ and has thought a lot about the type of people who come here to live. He says most prefer a solitary life and that is what the place offers.

“There are indeed some real gems of human beings in the area. And also, with most people, it is nice to just be, if they are capable of that and many [here] are,” says Juul.

One of the yards in Coalmont.
The town itself has the sense of a place that’s been all but abandoned. It’s as if all the responsible parents have run away and the teenaged boys are in charge. Derelict cars with grass growing out of them are scattered around front and back yards.

One of the lawn decorations in Coalmont.

Dogs run free day and night. Smoke rises from stovepipe chimneys. Dirt bikes and barbecues in various states of disrepair are left mid-project to rust. People here don’t like to be hurried, and they don’t like to be told what to do or when to do it. We’ve survived here this long, they say, we can darn well make it through another century or two.

An abandoned, half built house in Coalmont.

After the original boom of the opening of the mine, the extraction and movement of the coal out of the treacherous landscape proved much harder than expected, and by 1913 Columbia Coal and Coke had gone under. Many families simply walked away from their property. By the middle of First World War it seemed Coalmont would soon be a ghost town.

When the war ended, the renamed original coal company was able to leave behind the old horse and buggy method of transporting coal to embrace the new technology of trams. By 1921, workers were again coming to the town for coal. The first electric lights went on in the homes and businesses.

Though Coalmont never reached the population first expected, in 1922 four hundred people called the town home. It again looked like the place would thrive, but for every up in Coalmont, there always seems to be a down.

Tulameen River which runs south of Coalmont.

“Black Wednesday” hit on August 13, 1930. An explosion in one of the mineshafts killed 45 minors. After what was one of the province’s worst disasters, production dwindled and on April 8, 1940 the last mine closed. The next day the lights went out in Coalmont. Without electricity, most of the townspeople left. Those who didn’t were either crazy or stubborn, but all were resourceful. For the next twenty-five years there was no electricity in Coalmont.

Some of the families who stayed through the dark years are still there today and talk nonchalantly about reading by coal oil lamps and later having generators in their basements. For those who stuck it out there is not much to say about this era. They did what they had to do. They always had, they still do.

The one stop sign in Coalmont.

Today the town proudly boasts one stop sign, and one phone booth, which, when it was disconnected by Telus due to lack of use in 2012, the townspeople, lead by Juul, fought successfully to have reconnected and upgraded.

The phone booth.

There is a small chalkboard used for casual communication among residents, which is hung by the town mailboxes. The chalkboard reads,“Coalmont’s Facebook.”
Coalmont's Facebook.

There is a library — a repurposed bar fridge on a post on the corner of the main street full of books and a list of sign-out rules — put there by the Sternes.

Coalmont library.

“The people here don’t have much money and don’t think twice about making a trip to the Princeton dump, locally referred to as the East Princeton Mall, if they need something,” says Diane Sterne. They will go through the stuff in the reclaimed section and take it home to be repurposed. That is where the bar fridge for the Coalmont Little Free Library came from. “It was in the dump and we cleaned it up and voila – a library,” says Sterne.

Coalmont Hotel.

Strong hints of the boomtown Coalmont once was still remain. In winter, the mammoth Coalmont Hotel assaults the eyes with its flamingo pink paint against the tides of white snow. In the summer you expect to hear the theme song to Eastwood’s The Good, the Bad and the Ugly as you approach up the dusty road and onto the wooden stairs of the grand hotel porch.

The back of the Coalmont Hotel.
At one time the hotel was the jewel of the town. It boasted 35 rooms with luxurious baths, two cooks, a maid and a night watchman. In the 1940s there was a barbershop in the front room and a dance school in the dining room. But that was a long time ago. People still meet at the hotel to drink and catch up, but there are only two functioning rooms to rent and the pub operates sporadically.

Inside the pub today. Photo from Facebook.


It is possible Coalmont residents may be about to see some money flowing through their town once again. Coalmont Energy Corp. is set to begin mining just outside of Coalmont in the Basin mine. Mine manager John F. Allen says the operation will run continuously with 60 full time employees and is licensed to haul 350,000 tonnes of coal per year.

A few Coalmont locals have already gotten jobs, but Juul, whose own girlfriend works at the mine, says that people aren’t holding out much hope of it having a huge long-term impact on their economy. He says Coalmont people are used to things starting well and then turning for the worst. “Come to think of it, one of the reasons I liked Coalmont before I came here, is that it was ‘voted least likely to succeed,’” says Juul.

If there is anything that can be taken from the story of this town and its people is that sometimes success is defying the odds— and that they know how to do.

**I owe much of my love and interest in Coalmont to Diane Sterne and her husband Bob. One day in 2009 my husband Mykel opened Google maps and clicked a random spot- the town of Coalmont. He quickly searched for a hotel and came up with the quaint inn owned by the Sternes- Mozey-on-Inn. We had such a wonderful time on that first trip that we continue to go back every few months. The history in this article is based much on Diane's book "White Gold and Black Diamonds"