By ROB ROOK

In need of a plumbing part one Friday last August, I dashed downtown to purchase it from our local hardware store. Outside the store there were three young ladies (who had left their families in the park) having an interesting conversation regarding their three-day vacation on Salt Spring Island.

One of them said, “Salt Spring is nothing like I thought it would be. We should have gone to Tofino.”

Thinking that I may be of some help, I asked them what they were looking for. Their questions were interesting and I am sorry to say as a resident I was unable to answer many of them. The following is a list of some of the questions they asked.

• Where do we go to see the salt springs? Can we bathe in them?

• Do you need a four-wheel drive to get up Mount Maxwell?

• Where on the island do we go to see big trees? (I suggested the road to Musgrave.)

• Why is the children’s area in Centennial Park not fenced to keep the dogs out?

• On the ferry we picked up a pamphlet regarding the Studio Tour, but the first few places were closed, so we gave up on it. Do you have to make reservations or call in advance?

• Other than Centennial Park, what is there for children to do? Is there a skate park? Are there any amusement rides? (I directed them to the Story Walk in Mouat Park.)

• Where do we go to view local arts and crafts? (I suggested Mahon Hall and other galleries.)

• At the Saturday Market will we see painters painting, glass blowing, woodworkers making crafts and jewellers at work?

• Where is the best family beach? Someone said we should try Blackburn Lake, but the swimmers there couldn’t afford swim suits.

• Why are there so many abandoned-looking vehicles permitted to half park on the sides of the roads? They really make it difficult to navigate oncoming traffic.

• There was no one at the visitors centre when we went by. Is there another place where we can pick up a brochure on all the things to do and see on Salt Spring?

Their list of questions went on.

So I need your help. Where should I have sent them to pick up a comprehensive, up-to-date brochure on all the features and places to go and things to see on Salt Spring? A pamphlet with the biking trails, hiking trails, the ocean beaches, where to rent a bike or a kayak, the arts and crafts stores and studios, and where to visit the “salt springs” (if possible) would have been a wonderful resource to be able to give them. Do we have one? If not, then possibly it would be a good winter project for all of us islanders to contribute to and print in a spring edition of the Driftwood.

Editor’s note: The Driftwood publishes the Gulf Islander visitors’ guide each May, and welcomes any input or questions/answers for the next issue.

Just as you realize that it is almost time to put the garden into “hibernation mode” for the winter, you stumble across a stack of outdated seed catalogues and are reminded that there’s no such thing as off-season for the seasoned gardener.

Your cover crop may turn to mush and your vines may wither into a tangle of Gordian knots, but there is no escaping the fate of the 24/7/365 veggie gardener.

Try as you might to look away, there is no resisting the enticing seduction that washes over you when you succumb to seed catalogue descriptions such as “mouth-watering golden orbs of forbidden flavour are guaranteed to carry you off into sublime ecstasy.”

Yes, resistance is futile when you rub up against the chlorophyll saturated tendrils of the plant universe. Whatever inner fortitude you may have thought you possessed is dwarfed under the HO HO HO superpowers of the Jolly Green Giant. Who are you to match wits with these unrivalled kingdoms populated by so many diverse varieties of organisms? Who will determine your determinates from your indeterminates? Your annuals from your perennials?

There’s no getting away from it. Or getting enough of it. You might as well be prepubescent again and hiding those skin magazines under your mattress. No, your present age makes it different now. Ginger is no longer a centrefold playmate, but instead a knobby vegetable root leering out at you from inside your West Coast Seeds catalogue.

Even the names and categories can be intoxicating. Classifications such as organic, hybrid and heirloom varieties invite you into a clandestine realm where only the chosen such as yourself are admitted. This is your exclusive clubhouse complete with almost every privilege except maybe a secret handshake. And even that may be offered later if you prove worthy.

Just how exclusive and exotic are these veggie seeds and plants? The profile of a favourite variety, the common tomato, tells the story. It can come in various sizes and shapes. Beefsteak, paste, cherry and grape are just a few that spring to mind. The tomato can also be classified by how it may prove useful for your purposes. You may want it for certain qualities such as canning, slicing, freezing, saucing and drying.

Perhaps you are more interested in the colour or hue of the fruit (let’s avoid the age-old “fruit or vegetable” argument). If red is just too ordinary for you, you can find tomatoes with names like Black Krim, Green Zebra, Chocolate Sunset, Sungold Sky and Orange Paste.

If the country of origin tickles your fancy, then you can strike up a relationship with tomatoes that have migrated from just about every region of the globe (with the possible exception of Antarctica). Just for one example, the overly plump Hungarian Heart is sure to nuzzle its way into your special warm place.

Another factor vying for your attention may turn out to be the shape of your desired vegetable. Who’s to say that it has to be round? We’ve already experimented with plum and grape shaped tomatoes, so why not get even more radical with one that looks and behaves more like a Rubik’s Cube? Similarly, wouldn’t that long French filet green bean appear outrageously cool if it came in the shape of the double helix DNA configuration?

Certainly, there is no escaping the magnetic attraction that the catalogue names and descriptions may still hold on your psyche. The Jackfruit, commonly found in Asian recipes, is purported to be the heaviest fruit in the world and can clock in at about 80 pounds apiece. The Guanabana or Soursop fruit, native to South and Central America, can taste like strawberries if you can manage to separate the delicious pulp from the large inedible seeds. Perhaps the greatest challenge comes from the Durian fruit. First you have to penetrate the outer husk, which is covered with thorn-like spikes and whose main purpose is to do physical damage to you. If you succeed in overcoming the Durian’s external defence mechanism, you are then confronted with what is arguably the most foul smell on the planet. Some people find the taste of the Durian’s innards worth the sacrifice, but then again, some people like sleeping on a hideabed mattress.

There are so many more delicacies that are capable of making the mouth water if not completely obliterate whatever may be left of your taste buds. Some are thought of as invasive weeds while others add fragrance, texture and colour to our delicate environment. No matter whether they come to us in the form of seeds, tubers or cuttings, we forget past disappointments and eagerly adopt these organisms into our homes and gardens. They could have names such as African cucumber (or horned melon), Buddha’s Hand (part of the citron family), or Chocolate Pudding fruit (don’t even venture a guess), but somebody somewhere will claim it tastes like the cat’s pyjamas  (which it probably does, literally).

Nobody asked me, but there is a new era dawning in which the science and technologies involving hybridization, mutation and cloning will turn our old benign seed catalogues into terrifying graphic novels. It won’t take that much of a leap to turn the adorable Little Shop of Horrors into The Zombie Flesh Eating Squash that Devoured Ladysmith. If this becomes the case, it would be best to stay clear of the Chocolate Pudding plant.