Brisco British Columbia
Brisco General Store Walking into the famous Brisco General Store is like finding yourself back in time a hundred years. Established in 1911, the store houses the post office and just about anything else you can imagine! Visitors can spend hours just browsing its shelves and chatting with its neighborly owners. You may want to pick up a copy of Brisco and Spillimacheen -– A History, compiled by local long-time resident, Hedi Trescher, to take with you on your journey of exploration.
Brisco was our home for almost the first eight years of my life. Our family consisted of my mother, Vera, my Dad, Joe and my sister, Phyllis. Our home was a half-mile north from Uncle John, Auntie Ivy and their three children, Mary, Mildred and Bert. We were also located 3 miles south of Phyll and my fraternal grandparents, Ed and Lavinia Watkins. We were also 3 ½ miles south of the Brisco school and 4 miles south of the Brisco General Store and St. Mark’s Anglican Church.
You won’t want to miss historic St. Mark’s Church, known to the locals as the Galen church, with its lovingly-tended cemetery. Built in 1895, the church is the oldest in the valley and is just waiting to be explored and photographed.
Dad and his brothers, John, Charlie and Lloyd cleared a patch of land at the edge of a thick forest of fir trees, jack pine poplars and bushes. When I grew older I began to appreciate that it was tough work. First the land had to be cleared of trees and bushes. Not only did this vegetation have to be cut down or lopped off but the stumps and roots had to be dug up and disposed of. Teams horses were used and often dynamite as well. But it was still backbreaking work and very slow.
Then this hard working crew proceeded to build our home using lumber from their own saw mill. My uncles and Dad did everything. They framed the house, sheeted it inside and out, insulating it between the studs and in the attic with sawdust. The sawdust came from the family sawmill. And then they shingled the roofwith hand cut shakes. Window sashes, door jambs and window frames were fashioned by hand. Windows were glazed and installed. Door jambs were nailed into place and doors hung. I think that they bought the doors. I know thatthey would have bought the hardware, probably in Golden. Finally everything was painted.
A “two‑holer” outhouse was build in the trees,just far enough from the house but not too far.
A rectangular hole was dug for a root cellar. It was, about ten by six feet and about six foot deep. The hole was covered with heavy timbers. Then a log wall, about 12 by 8 was built around that and filled with dirt. Slanted wooden doors opened to reveal stairs that led downto the interior of this underground chamber. This was our root cellar and would serve us well for many years. It was used to store root vegetables, cabbages and apples in bins. Along the walls were shells where preserved vegetables, fruit and various kinds pickles and relishes. It was always one of my favorite places to go to. The specially during the summer when it was particularly hot outside. It also had to do with my love for food.
Our comfortable house was a small single storied gabled house nestled in among large fir trees. It had two bedrooms, a living room, dining room and kitchen. Our house never seemed to be too hot in the summer or too cold in the winter. It was a very happy home to live in. We spent a lot of time in it during the cold winter days. Conversely we spent little time in it during the long summer days. Or at least that’s the way I remember them.
Something that was truly wonderful was our large screened in veranda (porch) out front. Mom would plant hops along the outside walls. In no time we’d have a livinggreen curtain covering the screened areas of our veranda. It became our third bedroom. It was cool during the hot summer days and cool, but not too cool during the summer nights. More about six months from mid-spring, to the summer months until mid-fall Phil and I would sleep on the veranda. I still like to sleep outside or at least have the windows open.
Other out‑buildings were constructed. These included a barn, garage, chicken house and an ice house.
Our Dad was a very ingenious man. He managed to find a book on electricity and from it wired the house with a 12 volt electrical system. The electricity came from wet cell batteries that were stored in the garage. They were kept charged by a gas Delco generator in the garage. This marvelous generator would be started up on a regular basis. It was comforting to hear its familiar chugging engine sounds and knowing it was magically feeding electricity into those wonderful bubbling glass‑cased batteries.
Unfortunately it only supplied the kind electricity that could be used for light bulbs. As a result all our appliances were gasoline powered, battery powered or manually powered. I can’t remember anyone else around Brisco who had electric lights. They all used coal oil and kerosene lamps. The difference was the coal oil lamps used wicks and smelled and the kerosene lamps hissed. These smells and sounds are imbedded in my memory.
We were also one of the few homes with running water. Our resourceful Dad ran awater line from the nearby spring to our kitchen. It was extremely hard water. Dad used to say that if it was any harder you could walk on it. Our tea kettle was metal and the hard water would deposit a scale on the inside of the pot, especially the spout. The kettle would get heavier and heavier. The spout would get smaller and smaller. Eventually the kettle had to be thrown away and we’d have to buy a new one.
We always had rain barrels that supplied us with soft water for washing hair, the Saturday night baths and washing the dishes. These rain barrels were simply 40 gallon drums with one end cut off. They served us well. They caught the rain water as it came off the roof. As a child I was fascinated by them and checked the water level almost daily, especially after a rain storm. as I grew I took on the task of scooping leaves that had landed in the water.
The kitchen was at the back of the house on the North side of the house. It was also rejected by the large fir trees. It was not very large and was dominated by a rather large cast-iron would kitchen stove. It was probably my favorite room as there was always something happening. As a result of Mom’s skills in the kitchen there was a variety of wonderful things to eat. Even in the heat of the summer it was a great place to be.
The dining room was pretty simple with just enough room for a table and a fewwooden kitchen chairs. Family dinners around the dining room table were often the highlights of the day. One thing that I remember about this room was that was where the telephone attached to the wall. It was a very rudimentary telephone system. There was no operator and certainly no buttons or dials. Each telephone had a combination of rings, either short or long. For example the person that you wanted to call might have one long and three shorts as their number. You’d pick up the receiver and crank one long and then three short cranks. The person would hear that on his telephone and answer the telephone. Of course everyone with a telephone would hear all those rings but would ignore it. This sounds pretty crude today but then it was. But we didn’t think so at the time the time. You’d think that the telephone would be ringing constantly. People didn’t telephone nearly as often as they do today. So it wasn’t that bad.
If you drive south from Golden, along Highway 95, amid tall stands of Douglas fir and lodgepole pine, sprinkled with aspen groves, you will come upon the communities of Spillimacheen and Brisco. Nestled between the Rocky Mountains on the east and the Purcells on the west, these charming little gems are a lovely surprise, just waiting to be discovered.
‘Spilli’, as it is affectionately called by valley residents, and Brisco are located in what is primarily farming and ranching country, with some forestry and tourism tossed in. Wildlife is plentiful here. White-tailed and mule deer, elk, moose and black bear have their homes in the surrounding wilderness.
The area is rich in history, too. Pioneer explorer and cartographer David Thompson passed through the area in 1807. In the early days, travel was by steamboat on theColumbia River and it wasn’t until 1913 that the first train came to Spillimacheen.
In early June, in true community spirit, you are invited to the Annual Spilli Chili Cook-off at the Spillimacheen Festival Grounds. Since 1995 cooks from up and down the valley and beyond have been
cooking
up huge pots of their favorite chili recipes and competing for the title of the best chili ever -– anywhere! In a true country-fair atmosphere, you can camp on the grounds for the weekend and enjoy the music, the campfires and the camaraderie and then feast on chili with lots of extras, while you let your taste buds decide who to vote for.
We think you will be glad you stopped for a while in Brisco and Spillimacheen.
St. Mark’s Anglican church, Galena BC
“Brisco is a quaint, rural area north of Radium Hot Springs. The area features unique views of the Columbia River wetlands and is the main access to the world-famous Bugaboo Mountains.”As seen byThe local Tourist Bureau.
LocationBrisco is located 27 km (17 mi) north of Radium Hot Springs and 76 km (47 mi) south of Golden on Highway 95.
Places to See
Then this hard working crew proceeded to build our home using lumber from their own saw mill. My uncles and Dad did everything. They framed the house, sheeted it inside and out, insulating it between the studs and in the attic with sawdust. The sawdust came from the family sawmill. And then they shingled the roofwith hand cut shakes. Window sashes, door jambs and window frames were fashioned by hand. Windows were glazed and installed. Door jambs were nailed into place and doors hung. I think that they bought the doors. I know thatthey would have bought the hardware, probably in Golden. Finally everything was painted.
A “two‑holer” outhouse was build in the trees,just far enough from the house but not too far.
A rectangular hole was dug for a root cellar. It was, about ten by six feet and about six foot deep. The hole was covered with heavy timbers. Then a log wall, about 12 by 8 was built around that and filled with dirt. Slanted wooden doors opened to reveal stairs that led downto the interior of this underground chamber. This was our root cellar and would serve us well for many years. It was used to store root vegetables, cabbages and apples in bins. Along the walls were shells where preserved vegetables, fruit and various kinds pickles and relishes. It was always one of my favorite places to go to. The specially during the summer when it was particularly hot outside. It also had to do with my love for food.
Our comfortable house was a small single storied gabled house nestled in among large fir trees. It had two bedrooms, a living room, dining room and kitchen. Our house never seemed to be too hot in the summer or too cold in the winter. It was a very happy home to live in. We spent a lot of time in it during the cold winter days. Conversely we spent little time in it during the long summer days. Or at least that’s the way I remember them.
Something that was truly wonderful was our large screened in veranda (porch) out front. Mom would plant hops along the outside walls. In no time we’d have a livinggreen curtain covering the screened areas of our veranda. It became our third bedroom. It was cool during the hot summer days and cool, but not too cool during the summer nights. More about six months from mid-spring, to the summer months until mid-fall Phil and I would sleep on the veranda. I still like to sleep outside or at least have the windows open.
Other out‑buildings were constructed. These included a barn, garage, chicken house and an ice house.
Our Dad was a very ingenious man. He managed to find a book on electricity and from it wired the house with a 12 volt electrical system. The electricity came from wet cell batteries that were stored in the garage. They were kept charged by a gas Delco generator in the garage. This marvelous generator would be started up on a regular basis. It was comforting to hear its familiar chugging engine sounds and knowing it was magically feeding electricity into those wonderful bubbling glass‑cased batteries.
Unfortunately it only supplied the kind electricity that could be used for light bulbs. As a result all our appliances were gasoline powered, battery powered or manually powered. I can’t remember anyone else around Brisco who had electric lights. They all used coal oil and kerosene lamps. The difference was the coal oil lamps used wicks and smelled and the kerosene lamps hissed. These smells and sounds are imbedded in my memory.
We were also one of the few homes with running water. Our resourceful Dad ran awater line from the nearby spring to our kitchen. It was extremely hard water. Dad used to say that if it was any harder you could walk on it. Our tea kettle was metal and the hard water would deposit a scale on the inside of the pot, especially the spout. The kettle would get heavier and heavier. The spout would get smaller and smaller. Eventually the kettle had to be thrown away and we’d have to buy a new one.
We always had rain barrels that supplied us with soft water for washing hair, the Saturday night baths and washing the dishes. These rain barrels were simply 40 gallon drums with one end cut off. They served us well. They caught the rain water as it came off the roof. As a child I was fascinated by them and checked the water level almost daily, especially after a rain storm. as I grew I took on the task of scooping leaves that had landed in the water.
The kitchen was at the back of the house on the North side of the house. It was also rejected by the large fir trees. It was not very large and was dominated by a rather large cast-iron would kitchen stove. It was probably my favorite room as there was always something happening. As a result of Mom’s skills in the kitchen there was a variety of wonderful things to eat. Even in the heat of the summer it was a great place to be.
The dining room was pretty simple with just enough room for a table and a fewwooden kitchen chairs. Family dinners around the dining room table were often the highlights of the day. One thing that I remember about this room was that was where the telephone attached to the wall. It was a very rudimentary telephone system. There was no operator and certainly no buttons or dials. Each telephone had a combination of rings, either short or long. For example the person that you wanted to call might have one long and three shorts as their number. You’d pick up the receiver and crank one long and then three short cranks. The person would hear that on his telephone and answer the telephone. Of course everyone with a telephone would hear all those rings but would ignore it. This sounds pretty crude today but then it was. But we didn’t think so at the time the time. You’d think that the telephone would be ringing constantly. People didn’t telephone nearly as often as they do today. So it wasn’t that bad.
If you drive south from Golden, along Highway 95, amid tall stands of Douglas fir and lodgepole pine, sprinkled with aspen groves, you will come upon the communities of Spillimacheen and Brisco. Nestled between the Rocky Mountains on the east and the Purcells on the west, these charming little gems are a lovely surprise, just waiting to be discovered.
‘Spilli’, as it is affectionately called by valley residents, and Brisco are located in what is primarily farming and ranching country, with some forestry and tourism tossed in. Wildlife is plentiful here. White-tailed and mule deer, elk, moose and black bear have their homes in the surrounding wilderness.
The area is rich in history, too. Pioneer explorer and cartographer David Thompson passed through the area in 1807. In the early days, travel was by steamboat on theColumbia River and it wasn’t until 1913 that the first train came to Spillimacheen.
In early June, in true community spirit, you are invited to the Annual Spilli Chili Cook-off at the Spillimacheen Festival Grounds. Since 1995 cooks from up and down the valley and beyond have been
cooking
up huge pots of their favorite chili recipes and competing for the title of the best chili ever -– anywhere! In a true country-fair atmosphere, you can camp on the grounds for the weekend and enjoy the music, the campfires and the camaraderie and then feast on chili with lots of extras, while you let your taste buds decide who to vote for.
We think you will be glad you stopped for a while in Brisco and Spillimacheen.
St. Mark’s Anglican church, Galena BC
“Brisco is a quaint, rural area north of Radium Hot Springs. The area features unique views of the Columbia River wetlands and is the main access to the world-famous Bugaboo Mountains.”As seen byThe local Tourist Bureau.
LocationBrisco is located 27 km (17 mi) north of Radium Hot Springs and 76 km (47 mi) south of Golden on Highway 95.
Places to See
- Bugaboo Mountains
Brisco was our home for almost the first eight years of my life. Our family consisted of my mother, Vera, my Dad, Joe and my sister, Phyllis. Our home was a half-mile north from Uncle John, Auntie Ivy and their three children, Mary, Mildred and Bert. We were also located 3 miles south of Phyll and my fraternal grandparents, Ed and Lavinia Watkins. We were also 3 ½ miles south of the Brisco school and 4 miles south of the Brisco General Store and St. Mark’s Anglican Church.