Something snowy




While the rest of Canada was dreaming of a white Christmas
that never arrived, the weather in the southern interior of BC
was apologizing for last year.

I love driving in the snow.  Take that look off your face, I'm serious!  Having done my fair share of winters of driving back and forth between Calgary and BC - a seven and a half hour drive made tolerable only by sugar/caffeine induced hyper-awareness and top of the lungs sing-a-long - it is a simple fact that snowy roads are the most fun and interesting!  What would normally be a dangerous snorefest of driving becomes an adrenaline pumping theme park equivalent that moment the tires begin to spin and the back end fish-tails out.  Instantaneously you are fully aware and present as you call upon all of your honed video game driving skills to not go out of control.  A careful course correction performed masterfully gives the thrill that you are indeed that awesome and you are completely in control of the roads; the roads are not controlling you.  You observe the empty roads, free and clear of other traffic and smirk at the expense of all the cowardly souls that would rather not be out on snowy highways, revelling at the freedom their absence brings - a freedom to go as fast or as slow as your common sense or lead foot desires.  In that moment driving ironically becomes a most relaxing activity even while demanding your full attention and skill.  Winter driving is an example of oxymoron at its best. 

My favourite stretch of road between Calgary and BC is the imposing mountain pass locals fondly refer to as the Salmo-Creston, incidentally placed right between the towns of Salmo and Creston, BC. A intimidating enough challenge in the summer with its blind corners and incredibly steep grade that can easily push a vehicle well past the 100km/ph speed limit just by coasting, in the winter the pass becomes a veritable roller-coaster, full of twists and turns, ups and downs, and surprises around every corner. 

One winter in particular stands out in my memory on the Salmo-Creston pass, when on the way to BC there was black ice so thick on the down-side of the mountain that I was being pulled off the road going 20km/ph.  Imagine for a moment, driving at the lowest possible speed limit and pressing the brakes only to find your vehicle drifting to the huge cliff of boulders that line the side of the road and finding yourself grateful that at least you aren't drifting in the other direction towards the 50 storey plunge.  That was fun. 

That same year on the way back to Calgary I got stuck on the same slope by an avalanche.  That's right, an avalanche.  The traffic was lined up along the side of the mountain waiting patiently for the plows to clear a tunnel through the pile of the snow.  Meanwhile we were also crossing our fingers that no more avalanches were in the forecast while we were stalled in our merry line-up, like bowling pins waiting to be knocked down.  If my luck couldn't be worse, I also made the un-brilliant decision to turn off my car while leaving my headlights on.  Later on, after the snow was cleared, I tried the ignition only to find a dead battery, and me stalled on the side of the mountain, holding up traffic in an avalanche zone.  I ended up having to petition random strangers in the line of cars for a pair of jumper cables and a boost.  That was a little embarrassing.  Still, it was a learning adventure!

So by now you probably really think I'm crazy, especially if I claim that the Salmo-Creston is among my favourite stretches of road ever, especially in the winter.  However, to put my affection for winter driving into perspective, my brother put it best this past week when he stated "Other places get snow and they say 'Oh no! Close the roads!'.  People in the Kootenays get snow and they say 'Wheeee! Look what I can do!"  Well put, brother.  Well put.


So much snow!

We've got snow!



Why having so much snow is awesome!



Something full of holiday cheer

"I wanted to put up a Christmas tree for my birthday", my friend tells me as I visited her in Calgary at the end of November, "but some of my friends have a problem with Christmas trees."

"How can someone have a problem with Christmas trees?" I ask incredulously. "It's a tree with balls.  Lots and lots of balls!"

She takes one look at me and bursts out laughing.  "Oh, I missed you."


Runaway ball!!!

When I was a kid I remember being absolutely mesmerized by the concept of a Christmas tree.  After the tree was dressed I would sit at the base of the tree as the northern sky dimmed at its ridiculously early hour to complete blackness, allowing the multi-coloured illumination of the tree to become a spectacle that would enthrall me for hours on end as I stared up at it in wonder.  In those moments there was no need for thought or agenda; there was only a need for a deep sense of gratitude and joy.  My hyperactive imagination would pause as it stopped to consider the simple and majestic beauty the Christmas tree in front of me represented.  Needless to say, the Christmas tree has always been one of my favourite parts of Christmas.

Four years ago in December my dad died rather suddenly in a car accident. That year there was not much energy to celebrate Christmas, and so the Christmas tree did not go up.  The following year the tree went up only out of duress since we were hosting the family Christmas, but it was a half-hearted effort, going up at the last moment and not staying up past Boxing Day*.  Last year, our version of a Christmas tree was my mom's fake potted plant with multi-coloured lights on it, which we hadn't bothered taking off from the year before.  Maybe that passes for a Christmas tree in some households, but for my family the display was a lack of Christmas spirit at its finest.

Tree-dressing!

Which is why you should be able to understanding my surprise this year at the beginning November, when in mid-conversation my mother suddenly looked at me with a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous grin on her face and announced, "I feel like putting up the Christmas tree!!!"

I laughed and brushed it off, as I headed out the door to play board games at a friend's house.  After all, it was the beginning of November - and who puts up a Christmas tree at the beginning of November?

Well, apparently my family does, because when I got home I was shocked to discover a Christmas tree that I did not recognize standing proudly in the centre of the living room, completely decorated.  While I had been gone for the past 4 hours my mother had gone to Canadian Tire, bought a Christmas tree with my brother, brought it home, had my brother help her set it up in the middle of the living room and then decorated it and went to bed.

The funnier thing though is that this isn't the end of the story.  Dissatisfied with her choice of baubles, balls and lack of ribbon, on November 11th while we were exiled from the home to provide her housekeeper some personal space, we proceeded to travel across half of the West Kootenays in search of new ornaments to dress the tree with.  Then, after we got home, we promptly un-decorate the already-decorated tree in order to re-decorate it with the new decorations.  By the way, that was a completely decorous sentence. ~grins at bad pun~ 

Finished product! ~"Oh Christmas Tree"~

 

So suffice to say my family is in fine Christmas spirit this year.  The tree is up and it is beautiful and mesmerizing.  It has lights that can alternate between pristine white, and psychedelic multi-colour with patterns.  There are lots of balls on it.  The cat has already pulled the ribbon off of it at least once.  Yes, the tree this year is pretty much perfect in every way.  Merry Christmas everybody!

*Boxing day: December 26th, the Canadian equivalent of Black Friday - shopping day extraordinaire that was originally intended to be the day when people would "box up" the tree.

Something adventurous! (part 3)

We were only an estimated half hour away from our destination in biking to Cavendish when my friend Josh stopped abruptly on the road and asked "Where the heck are we? That Google-Maps app can't be right!"  We were on a red-dirt gravel road full of pot-holes in the middle of nowhere that seemed to be leading further into the middle of nowhere, PEI.  Snowie Road, I think it was called.  It was probably called that because it spent the winter buried under untouched, unplowed, untrodden snow. 

Snowie Road

"No, we are in the right place," I tried to reassure him that despite appearances that we were on a dead-end country road, we were on track to our destination.  "There should be a turn off just around the next bend."

Sure enough, around the next bend another dirt road branched off in a perpendicular direction leading the merry jaunt through the abandoned country side.  I wasn't sure whether to find it spooky or beautiful.  On one hand we were getting an up-close and personal look at the Prince Edward Island wilderness complete with the legendary red soil.  On the other hand, it was nearing 4 o'clock and I wasn't sure what kind of wildlife was on the island and when said wildlife observed dinner time.

By this time I was walking my bike more than I was riding it.  My tailbone was so sore from the four hours of bike riding that sitting on the bike was nearly impossible without bringing tears to my eyes.  Still, the promise on the Google-maps app on my phone was clear: Cavendish was only a few more hills away.

When we finally pulled into town there was no cheering, no victory dance, no frolicking in joy.  There was just this sense of palpable relief, exhaustion and pain.  It had taken us just over 4 hours to make a trip that Google-maps had promised would be only 2 hours long.  Never trust Google-maps on a bicycle.  I looked at Josh and whispered to him, shamefully, "I don't think I can make the return trip."  Another 40 kilometers back?  Heck no, not happening.

Our first stop in Cavendish was at the visitor information centre, to find a shuttle that could drive us back to Charlottetown with our bikes.  Then we checked out Green Gables, Avonlea village and finally, the beach.   I had made the trip in faith, being told that Cavendish was an absolutely beautiful and magical place.  Was it worth the pain?  Here are the pictures; you be the judge: (click to view full-sized photo)



Green Gables!!!

Avonlea Village.  It was so adorable, and free to walk around!

On the other side of those dunes on the far left is the lovely beach.



The beach at Cavendish. 
Fun fact: the constant washing of the waves over the dirt washes out the
rust in the soil, removing the red colour.

I wasn't the only one enjoying the beach.



So peaceful....

The landscape was absolutely stunning, even without mountains.

 I am happy to say that despite all the pain, tears and inconveniences that accompanied the adventure, I am glad we took the chance to visit Cavendish.  I got to see an incredible landscape, become intimately acquainted with Prince Edward Island, visit a place that inspire my favourite books, and lived a story that I can now tell on my blog.  But best of all?  I got bragging rights!  That's right 40 kilometres in one day, I biked across and entire Canadian province!

The "I made it! (even though I can't feel my legs anymore)" photo.

Something adventurous! (part 2)

Spare change for tires?

Determined to have a successful bike trip to Cavendish, I resolved to camp out in front of the Canadian Tire until it opened, in hopes of procuring a new tube for my busted bicycle tire.  I reasoned that even if the store didn't open until noon, if the trip took 2 hours, like Google-maps promised, then we would still be able to enjoy a couple of hours in Cavendish before coming home.  In the meantime, our spare time could be spent trouble-shooting where to get lunch.  The whole Maritime devotion to observing a day of rest was seriously hampering our attempts at locating a place to buy a sandwich. Fortunately, Pita Pit came to the rescue with its yummy custom-wrap goodness, and then, 10 minutes before the Canadian Tire opened, the owner of the bike rental place showed up with a new bike for me.  YAY!  The trip was delayed but not defeated.  Optimism had won!

Actually.... naivety had won.

The first clue I had that this trip would not be all that I envisioned it to be happened shortly after we detoured off the Confederation Trail and reached the crest of the first hill, only to be confronted with a landscape that looked like this:

At least you know that none of the hills go higher than 400m over sea level.

 Forging onward, we reached the top of that hill only to find an almost identical hill behind it.  And an identical hill behind that one.  And an identical hill behind that one.  The whole island was a freaking roller coaster on bicycle!  And, remember, I had not seriously ridden a bicycle for 15 years.  Oh God, what had I gotten myself into?

We might need directions.

I was a good sport for the first two hours, suffering patiently as I dragged my sorry bike-pedalling ass up hill after hill.  It was slow, excruciating work, so I did expect that we would be a bit behind Google-maps estimate - but nothing can describe the depths to which my heart sank after those first two hours to find out that we had only made it 1/2 of the way!  "How many kilometers is it to Cavendish?"  Josh finally asked and I realized, shamefully, that I had never looked that information up.  All I had depended on was Google-maps time estimate, as hours were the true Canadian way of calculating distance.  So I checked it out then and there and discovered that the route we were following was over 40 kilometres long from Charlottetown to Cavendish.  40 KILOMETRES!!!!  My eyes nearly bugged out of my head, and there was an incredibly low sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Still, we were halfway there and in the middle of nowhere.  Our only company on these pastoral roads were the potatoes in the red-soiled fields around us.  The only logical choice was to forge on ahead, through the rollercoaster hills.

My butt was beginning to hurt.  My legs felt like jelly.  I knew in the pit of my gut that I could not stop moving, because if I did I would not be able to start again.  Every time we reached a crest of a hill and saw the next one, just as high and steep at the last an audible groan erupted from my mouth, vocalizing the pain and disappointment I felt inside at my lack of poor judgement.  Still, defiantly I declared to Josh as we neared the 3 and 1/4 hour mark that I was not going to give up!  "I am going to get this done so I can say I can bike across Prince Edward Island in a single day!!!"  That silly, stubborn thought was thing that kept me going as I pedalled up the next hill like the Little-Engine-That-Could thinking to myself, "Bragging rights.... bragging rights... bragging rights...."

Part 3 is in the works!

Something adventurous! (part 1)

"You should really go to Cavendish; Cavendish is absolutely beautiful."  This is what everyone told me when I mentioned that the next stop on my trip was Prince Edward Island.  "Not to mention, it was the inspiration for Anne of Green Gables book series."  Okay, those are my favourite books from my childhood so... SOLD! To Cavendish it is!  There was only one problem: we (me and my travel buddy Josh) were only going to be on the island, staying in Charlottetown, for 3 nights.  Quite simply, a long day trip couldn't be accommodated without shifting some plans around.  Fortunately, I am the queen of shiftable plan-making.

Welcome to Charlottetown, PEI!

When I was researching Prince Edward Island and touristy activities that could be done there, I stumbled upon a technological wonder called the Confederation Trail - a 435km trail system spanning the entire length of Prince Edward Island made out of converted rail grade.  Following the easy trail system, one could walk or bike across the stunning pastoral vistas and shorelines of PEI without having to worry about breaking too much of a sweat.   This sounded ideal to me.  After all, the last time I had tried to ride a bike I ended up on my butt on the side of a highway after trying to brake down a gravelly hill.  Not smooth at all. I may not have ridden a bike seriously in over 15 years, but a trail system at my level - beginner - sounded like a good place to take up the activity challenge.  Spending a day biking the Confederation Trail while on the island was officially on my bucket list!

Confronted with the need to have shifty plans, however, I started to examine our Confederation Trail bike-riding plans to see how far out of our way we would have to go to take those bikes up to Cavendish as part of our day trip. Bad news #1: the town was on the opposite side of the island.  We would have to ride across the whole island, south to north, to get from Charlottetown to Cavendish.  Good news in response: the island is long and skinny. Going from south to north might actually be possible as that was the skinny direction.  Bad news #2: the Confederation Trail actually didn't go past Cavendish.  It was more of an east to west trail than a north to south one.  Good news in response: there were roads that cut right across the middle of the island.  We could follow the Confederation Trail partway up then detour onto one of those roads with no problem!  Right?

To make sure my plan was absolutely feasible, I google mapped it.  The app told me that, using its route, it would take us 2 hours to reach Cavendish.  Okay, I may be a little rusty on bike riding but I felt optimistic that I could handle 2 hours of easy bike riding.  Prince Edward Island, according to my research, never goes 400m above sea level.  That, in my mind, translated to a lack of hills.  Biking across the island should be simple!  Right?

RIGHT?

Having convinced my travel buddy, Josh, that this was a totally sane and logical plan, we set out up the Confederation trail early on beautiful Sunday morning.  The sky was blue. The temperature was warm.  The trail went up at an easy grade. The sense of optimism dictated our anticipation and excitement over going to Cavendish and seeing the breathtaking vistas and beaches of a land out of legend.

We were half an hour up the trail, on the very edge of the city of Charlottetown, when I commented to Josh that something in my bike didn't feel right.  Not even 20 seconds later, POP! Hissssssss.......  The rear tire on my bike blew a rupture and instantly deflated!  OH NO!!!!!  Optimism still ruled my mind though and I instantly set about solving the problem. 



Josh and I had a few moments as we waited to
hear back from the bike rental place, so we
took advantage of the moment to stage this
photo with his potato pal, Spudz.

First, I phone the place that rented us the bikes, hoping we would be able to get a replacement brought out to us as walking the bikes back would take us over an hour.  Unfortunately it was a weekend and the poor girl at the desk was by herself and couldn't very well do anything for us, being on the other side of the city.  She tried to phone the owner, but couldn't get through, so she left a message.  We were effectively stranded, forced to stop and take pictures of a potato stealing Josh's bicycle, our journey stalled before it could even really begin begin.

My optimism for the adventure was not to waver at this setback, however.  I recalled seeing a Canadian Tire not even a 15 minute walk back up the trail.  Maybe if we couldn't get a bike replacement, I could get a tube replacement for the tire and get the bike company to refund me my rental cost.  I'm the queen of great ideas!  We walked the bikes to the Canadian Tire and immediately faced our second setback.  As mentioned before, it was a Sunday morning and we were in Charlottetown, PEI, a Maritime province.  That morning standing in front of a closed Canadian Tire that did not open until noon I learned an important lesson: people in the Maritimes take their Sundays and holidays very seriously.  None of this treating Sundays like just another day in the week.

We were still effectively stranded.  Josh, suggested that we walk the bikes back to the hostel where we had rented them, but I was still determined to make it to Cavendish, one way or another.  The northern shores of Anne of Green Gables beckoned to me.

Part two is up!

Something wild

Take note: This is not a coyote!

"I want to see a coyote!"  That's what he said. Rob had travelled to Canada from the UK and was on Cape Breton Island to satisfy his burning desire to see Canadian wildlife.   Personally, I didn't get the appeal. Coyotes aren't that exciting. They basically look like medium-sized mutt dogs with fluffy tails: all cute a domestic looking, until you realize that they are totally willing to eat you. 

In fact, I nearly got hunted by a coyote pack once.  I was at a silent retreat centre outside of Banff, AB and decided to go for a walk in the  woods, despite warnings from my fellow retreaters about coyotes nearby.  Sure enough, as I walked down the trail I could hear them howling in the distance - howling: their technique for freaking out and cornering their prey.  The sound of their howls was getting closer and closer so I bent down to pick up a stick.  Wanting to make sure of its sturdiness I whacked it against a tree.  Part of it splintered off with a resounding and satisfying crack, like a gunshot.  I grinned.  FUN!  Within minutes I was armed with two sticks, my weapons of mass destruction as I rampaged through the woods whamming sticks against tree and breaking whatever dead wood I could.  The silent retreat was no longer so silent; but after about 25 minutes of my joyful cacophony the howls were miles away.  Score: me 1; coyotes 0.

So yeah, Canadian wildlife: cute but deadly.  I knew I had to correct some assumptions about Canadian wildlife when Rob began to wish aloud that we would come upon a moose on our hike on the Cabot Trail.  OK, I can understand the appeal of seeing a moose: they are majestic; they are stately; they have awesome racks.  But if there is an animal that I would rate near the top of animal I wouldn't want to surprise in the open bush, moose definitely is near the top of that list.  They can be quite territorial, and their huge size is going to give them the advantage in any fight.  Trust me, if you get in a fight with an angry moose, the moose will win.

Despite my fervent desire to not confront a moose, at the end of the day Rob's wish was the one that came true.  We were coming back from our last hike on the Skyview Trail as the last bits of dusk trailed away into darkness. We were only about 10 minutes from the car when we came upon other tourists stalled on the side of the pathway.  Peering carefully into the darkness, we were able to ascertain what had them hesitating: a huge black shadow moving along the side of the path, not even 10 yards away.  A moose.  Having just spent the last hour educating Rob on the dangers of moose in the Canadian wild, there was a palpable sense of nervousness in the air at being so close to such an amazing creature.  "Well," I reasoned, "there are a lot of us, and it's used to tourists and knows we are here, so if we move slowly and give it as much distance as possible, everything should be fine." And if everything wasn't fine then I was already mentally working on a contingency plan to use trees and my trail-fellows as moose speed bumps. Slowly, ever so slowly we tiptoed single file on the far side of the path, passing within 5 yards of the moose then continuing on to our car for the trip back to the hostel.

"Ok, that was a bit too close for comfort!"  I declared to my hiking partners.  This time even Rob agreed.



Skyview Trail, shortly before we ran into the moose.

Bonus blog content!

My rating system for how nervous Canadian wildlife makes me, from lowest to highest:

• Beavers - sharp teeth, but shy.
• Porcupines - sharp quills, but shy.
• Skunks - Shy, but stinky!  Also doesn't mind living in more urban environments, so beware.
• Raccoons - These can be vicious, but they won't pick a fight with you unless they feel threatened.  They will tear your cat to shreds without hesitation though.
• Black bears - Usually more scared of you than you are of them.  Make noise, don't get between a mother and her cubs and you should be okay.  Only need to be scared if there is a lack of food in the woods, or the bear is acclimated to take food from human sources, like garbage cans.
• Cougars - They will stalk you, but usually just because they are curious.  Only need to be scared if there is a lack of food in the woods or if you are short.
• Coyotes - They may be small, but they hunt in packs and will not hesitate to hunt you if they are hungry and you are alone.
• Moose - They are not scared of you.  They are territorial.  They will gore and trample you.
• Grizzly bears - They are not scared of you. They are territorial. They will maul your face off.
• Wolves - They will hunt you.  They will eat you.  They will corner and devour you until only your bones are left.