dog – Page 5 – OldPlaidCamper

Something lurking…

Scout here. OldPlaidCamper is around, but you know how he can be when elections are won by old xenophobes, criminal misogynist wannabe “strong” men and- well, I could go on but then I’d sound like him, and we all know I’m more chipper and less likely to rant than him. So, while he’s off sulking, this week it’s up to me to provide a post. This is about something, or rather, a something that has been lurking and maybe even tracking us in the woods.

OPC can get twitchy – or squirrelly but not as cute (don’t tell him I said that) – when there’s a rustling in the undergrowth. I’ve explained over and over that there really isn’t anything much larger than a deer in our little neck of the woods, but will he listen? Yes, yes, there’s the troll house, but we’ve never seen the trolls, have we?

Anyway, there we were out in the woods last week, and, yup, there was definitely something different in the vicinity. We paused to listen. A sort of low rustling and then nothing. On we went. There it was again! It stopped just after we did. Now, I’m not the nervous sort, not like a certain almost outdoorsman we all know, but I will admit to being a little spooked. Not spooked or annoyed like I get with ravens and crows, and we all know I’m so calm I’ll sleep through a bear encounter, but this time I was ruffled. We moved on. And there it was again! Hmm.

“Wait! Did you hear that? A scurrying behind us?”

As a child, oops, I mean pup, and just like OPC, I was always drawn to maps in books that had places marked with “Here be dragons” and this was beginning to play on my mind. Could it be… no! So, perhaps it was a troll? Except whatever it was sounded too fleet of foot – not lumbering, far more nimble than that. You’ll never guess what OldPlaidCamper said? “I say, Scout, old thing, I do believe we’re jolly well being stalked by a woodland dragon! How beastly. Shall we hide?” (When he’s nervous, he sounds like a prissy child actor in a Sunday teatime BBC adaptation of one of the Narnia books. You won’t tell him I said that will you?)

Oh, c’mon, OPC. There is no such thing outside of your, oops, I mean my, story books! (I’m beginning to struggle with the narrative voice here. It’s not easy writing this. Never mind all thumbs on a keyboard, or a monkey (as if) with a typewriter – I’m all paws. Nope, not easy…)

Where was I? Oh yes. OPC loves dragons, but, unlike trolls, they only exist in stories. I’ve never seen one – have you? OPC says dragons are more real than a Brexit unicorn frolicking in sunlit uplands, but I usually stop listening when he gets started on that. You know, unicorns.

This post isn’t going anywhere is it? I thought I’d write something more interesting than his usual man goes for walk with dog then drinks beer. I was aiming to be a bit more elevated. More dog goes for a walk with man then eats kibble, and ending with a soft focus photograph of a bowl of kibble and a caption saying “yum!”

I’ll humour him. “Yes, OPC, something has been lurking here!”

Oh well. I’m tired, and I need to go find OPC, see if he needs a walk and feeding, so let’s leave it here this week. He often finishes with something like that, doesn’t he? “Let’s leave it here this week!” Not me. I’m going to say let’s paws it here this week. Elevated. Oh! I almost forgot, and I’d hate to leave you in suspense – was it a dragon? Yes! Yes it was! A baby dragon:

Yes, that’s right, a baby dragon. (I know, I know, but don’t spoil it for OPC – he’s fragile after recent events…)

A baby dragon?! He insisted on calling it that, bless him. To me it looks a lot like a salamander, but try telling OPC. He is adamant it is a baby dragon. And now, when we go to the woods, he’s all “here be dragons!” each time we turn a corner. I’ve decided it’s best to let him believe it, since it seems to cheer him up, and don’t some of us need that at the moment?

Thanks for reading, and we hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Already?! Goodness, the year seems to be racing by…

Thanksgiving this coming Monday, and amongst all the wider madness in the world we’re aware we’ve so much to be thankful for.

As I’ve mentioned before, it’s a happy coincidence for us that thanksgiving weekend more or less marks the anniversary of when we moved to Canada, a decision we’ve never once regretted.

Each passing year we love our home more and more. So if you choose to celebrate the coming holiday, happy thanksgiving. If you don’t, here are a few more fall related images from recent weeks!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Down to the river…

…not to pray, at least not in the conventional sense, but perhaps an unspoken word or two of thanks was offered up, a recognition of a special space and place.

We were very happy to be down by the Etchemin River once again. We were also very happy to enjoy mild temperatures, if not quite as warm as our previous visit. Signs of early fall were all around, from the sharp snap in the air first thing, to the dry leaves shaken loose by sudden brisk breezes and seesaw floating to the ground.

A highlight of the week was the daily flyby of several skeins of geese at dawn and dusk, their honking and wing beats tracing the path of the river. Each time they flew over, sometimes up high, other times almost touching the treetops, I tried and failed to get a clear and closeup photograph. Splendid sights and sounds, and a reminder the current season is moving on and warm weather camping might be almost over for another year.

We have one more longish camping trip to come. By the time this is posted we’ll be somewhere in the Gaspésie, having traced our own journey several hundreds of kilometres east along the southern shore of the mighty St. Lawrence river. We’ll be huddled over a fire beneath the low mountains and amongst the tall pines, hoping the days are warm even if the nights are cool. More on that another time.

I’ll wind up for this week with another religion adjacent observation – we’ve developed quite the fondness for a smoked blue cheese produced at the Saint-Benoit-du-Lac monastery over the river and to the southwest of Quebec City. It’ll be in amongst our picnic items for the coming week. Try it if you can find it – simply delicious! Inspired by a higher power? I don’t know, but the fromage bleu fumé reveals/provokes almost divine levels of devotion…

“No smoked blue for me? Ok, whatever, not sulking…”

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Grains de folie!

Maybe if you spend too long in the woods with nothing but your thoughts, strange things start to occur?

You’re sitting in your chair – finally, you’ve found just the right camping chair, both sturdy and supportive and with a little pocket for your favourite woodsy beverage – and you start to nod off. A day/days of strenuous inactivity can cause pleasant drowsiness, so when you come to with a slight start, you ask, what was that?

Was it the porcupine returning to the scene of his earlier encounter with Mrs. PC and Scout? (A non-spiky encounter – good news on all sides!) Nope, doesn’t seem so.

Maybe the crows have returned, believing they hadn’t done enough previously in their attempts to disturb the peace? Nope, no crows.

Must have been an industrious woodpecker, drilling for something tasty up in the higher reaches? Nope, nothing like that.

So, why am I suddenly on alert? Haven’t seen or heard a raccoon, the chattering squirrels aren’t about, but something has intruded, gotten into my empty head. Good thing Scout would warn us if an unwelcome whatever was approaching. No, scratch that. This is the same Scout that didn’t even blink last time a bear wandered through our backyard. A crow, deer or squirrel, then yeah, she’ll let us know. Scout’s many wonderful things, but being a reliable guard, no, not so much.

There it is, I can hear it now, a distinct rustling in the undergrowth behind me. Did anyone else hear it? No?! I’ll settle down then, must be an overactive imagination. Take another sip of the rather wonderful bottle conditioned saison from the Bercée microbrasserie we visited earlier. Mmm, excellent. Grains de folie!

There! I knew I wasn’t losing it! Look what’s come out of the woods to greet us. No, not him, he’s not real. The second one.

“*Are you calling me an unwelcome whatever*? *Not real?! Sure, have another sip, enjoy it, and maybe I’ll be along later to have a word?”*

“*What ya drinkin’? Looks good! Don’t mind me, don’t be startled, I’m just out on patrol! Watch out for that beardy little fella – come to think of it, he looks a bit like you, doesn’t he?*”

Huh? What’s going on? Maybe I’ll keep the other bottle for when we get home, lock the doors, and drink it inside? I love it up in the Saguenay – wonderful lakes and woods, and a great place to sit and let your thoughts drift – but maybe don’t drift too far? You might end up a touch Kenogamachiche here on Lac Kénogami…

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

“*Gotta go – see if I can track down that other strange little beardy fella* – *see ya next time!”*

Would you believe…

…that this is post 501?!

Yup, according to a note that popped up last week, I’ve written (and you have endured) 500 posts here on OldPlaidCamper. Nope, got that wrong, so last week. You’ve now endured 501 posts (assuming you’re still here for this one?)

“You lot are lucky – imagine having to listen to each draft…”

Looks like I’ve gotten away with writing more or less the same thing 500 times. Man goes for walk with dog, then has a beer. Sometimes rants at the unpleasant oddity of so many right wing politicians and populist xenophobes. Asks himself has the world gone quite mad? Has another beer, decides to go camping. And repeat…

*Has the world gone quite mad?* Dunno – let’s go camping!

Thank you for reading and commenting – I enjoy the little online corner we share through our blogs. Friendly people with some degree of coinciding interests and concerns, never dull, always respectful and good natured, and so much fun – that’s you, not me.

I’ll see if I can keep going for another 500? Hmm, that’s a lot of new beers to try and places to camp, but lets’s give it a go.

We’re away this week, returning to the Saguenay area, our first visit since the black fly incident back in June. There’s been a great deal of rain the past day or two, so here’s hoping those pesky black flies are poor swimmers and those that can swim are not too hungry.

I’ll catch up on all matters WordPress when we return. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

This way or that?

Drifting and paddling, splishing and splashing. Being by the water on warm summer days – is that about as good as it gets?! We could ask these guys:

*Both ways work – we’re in the right place!*

By the time this is posted we’ll be off camping, down by a different body of water in the Chaudière-Appalaches. I’ll catch up on all things WordPress next week. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Meandering

Meandering? Us? Never! Well, maybe… Read on if you’ve the time and patience for something slow going nowhere in particular!

We’ve just got back from a short road and extended camping trip to Parc national d’Opemican. The park is about a ten hour drive from Quebec City. If you want to, you can make the trip from here to there in one long driving day, but we took two days, travelling more slowly, stopping often.

Our route passed through Montreal and Ottawa because that appeared to be the most direct. Did I mention travelling more slowly? The summer highway construction season all but assures you’re taking things slowly, so it was on with the tunes (yup, the Hip), down with the windows (and then back up because, city traffic fumes and humidity) and try to enjoy the construction enforced leisurely pace. I do like driving with windows rolled down if we’re moving at a (legal) pace that generates cool air. I know, my hair, but sometimes you’ve just got to go with it.

Picnic stop. Loads of time. Loads of cheese. Lots of cherries. Few bugs.

With Montreal and Ottawa in the rear view, things out of the (rolled down) windows get a good deal more interesting. The Ottawa Valley is wide and green and pleasantly agricultural before becoming increasingly wooded, rugged and wild as it swings northwest.

Approaching Opemican we’d ask are we in Ontario or are we in Quebec? Erm, yes? The river is the border between the two provinces, and we crisscrossed it a few times. I loved moving along(side) the river on those lazy hazy summer days. Later in the week I got to paddle on it. Marvellous. More on that in another post I suspect.

Earlier, we’d stopped in Arnprior, ON, to meet an old school friend, or rather, old school teaching friend and colleague from our time in Calgary. A wonderful teacher, it was P who gave me a copy of “Hatchet” by Gary Paulsen as she thought I might like it. She was right, and it influenced much of what I taught. With the novel as a starting point, students explored so many aspects about what it means to be in Canada. New Canadian, settler, refugee or First Nation, I’m almost certain every single student enjoyed the novel and how we uncovered so many areas of the curriculum. Geography, language, math, natural sciences, artistic expression, personal responsibility, risk taking, decision making, finding solutions, and remembering to never, ever bother a moose. So much in one short novel! If I ever return to the classroom, it’ll be with a copy of Hatchet in my back pocket… I owe P so much! So I bought her a beer.

Lazy afternoon with a hazy beer – highly recommended NEIPA

P was in fine form. We’d always hoped to meet up at her family cottage near Bobcaygeon but never got to doing that and the cabin changed hands last summer. Fortuitously, we all happened to be passing through Arnprior the same weekend, and, just as fortuitously, the Cold Bear Brewing Company was open, served splendid beer, and was the most dog (and people) friendly brewery we’ve been to so far.

We’ll get to Arnprior again one day, explore a bit more, as it seemed a pleasant little riverside town. We couldn’t stay long this time as it was on the next day to rendezvous with my brother and his partner at Opemican.

I’ll write more about the fabulous week we had in a future post, but I’ll finish by saying if you ever go camping and want a mosquito distractor, some bait that’ll keep the little blighters away from you, then go with my brother. He’s a mosquito magnet! Every mosquito in western Quebec wanted to meet him. And only him. I have to say he complained far less than I would have, so hats off for that – and then back on again quickly, just in case. (If you have bought shares in any bug deterrent products in the past month, it was my brother who made your fortune!) Poor guy tried everything, to no avail. He’s quite a builder and tinkerer, and he left muttering something about creating a personal mini laser system to shoot down mosquitoes. I wouldn’t put it past him, but he wouldn’t be happy about the military-industrial complex knocking on his door and asking for the blueprints as a matter of national security.

“What bugs? Be chill, man!” Scout, going with the contours and the flow at Opemican

More to follow! Thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

PS Now we’re home for a few days, I’ll be catching up on your posts and any comments over the weekend and into next week! (We were pretty much off grid for ten days – did anything happen while we were away? Scans headlines. Oh…)

Tea in the park

We felt like having a small celebration last Friday and opted for tea in the park. Only I don’t drink tea – I don’t like it (I know, born in Britain and all! Shh…) – so usually it’s coffee for me. It was too hot for tea or coffee and too early for a glass of beer or wine. Limonata? Why, yes please! And a large pastry? Yes please again and thank you, a pastry would be just the thing since we’re celebrating.

What were you celebrating, OldPlaidCamper? I’m glad you asked. We are delighted for friends and family we care about still living in dear old Blighty because this happened:

Of course, not everyone will be happy, and there’ll be some strange and strangely selfish types clutching their pearls in performative horror because of the results. However, after 14 years of incompetence (and that’s being far too kind about the lying, greed, xenophobia, sleazy scandals, lazy populism and divisive rhetoric) it’s wonderful to see a positive change.

A brief post as we’re away this week feeding the mosquitoes. Thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

“Has he stopped talking about the Tory demise yet? Wake me when he has…”

Vallée Bras-du-Nord

Refusing to be put off by our recent black fly challenges (and armed with a new bug screen dome and lotion with possibly high radiation equivalent levels of DEET) we set off for a relatively mountainous region an hour or so northwest of Quebec City.

I was encouraged as the route changed from six lane highway to two lane black top (with narrow single lane bridges over small rivers and streams) to a range road that became a dirt track the last few kilometres. We were hoping for something a little remote – our booking advised no electricity or running water and very little cell coverage (all true) – and when we checked in at the office, the friendly welcome and laidback attitude boded well. Also, yes, the campground a few hundred metres away might not have any modern services, but, bonus, was that a fridge full of cold local beers? Well, I’m not saying, but Mrs. PC seemed particularly happy…

A selection of cold locals – the beer, not the people!

Our site was large, shaded and quiet. Spacious enough to accommodate our tent, the truck and the larger than expected dome tent bug screen. My first apartment was smaller. We put it up over the provided bench and picnic table with room to spare. Great for Scout to wander around “indoors but outside” and off leash.

The black fly count was far lower than our previous outing, and we’d have probably been ok without the screen, but it was pleasant to be able to rustle up and eat meals without any bugstractions.

We’re meeting up with friends/family next week, another camping trip, on the Quebec-Ontario border just north of Algonquin Park. I understand it can be a little buggy there, so we’ll be able to entertain in numbers under the dome. Or if not entertain (yeah, they’ve heard our stories before) then at least be comfortable.

Anyway, back to the Vallée Bras-du-Nord – it is a gem! Mountainous and green, a pretty valley with great hiking and biking trails and lots of camping options. It would be fun to snowshoe or xc ski in winter, and it has the feel of being a fishing place? I’m not too sure of the fishing scene in Quebec. The rivers and streams are plentiful and appear clean to the untrained eye.

We hiked a couple of trails, and our favourite was to the Delaney Falls. My camera was dying, but I managed a few shots. Honestly, if you ever find yourself out that way, the one hour each way hike from Shannahan Information Centre to the falls is a winner. It is leafy and relatively flat along the river valley bottom with a short rise to the falls on well constructed forest trails. Roots, rocks and puddles make it one to watch where you step, but nothing too strenuous, and a perfect length for a warm day. Take bug spray and water and all will be well!

Our evenings were warm, one or two sharp rain showers aside, and the best sight in the later evenings was the lightning bugs. Loved seeing those. Only a few, and flashing on and off through the darkening trees. For me, they made camping seem like, well, camping!

We’re hoping to return in the fall, most likely for a daylong outing to check out the leaf colour and enjoy a vigorous hike on a fresh fall day.

Always friendly, always ready for a hike – any season!

Not too sure about how connected we’ll be internet-wise for the next week or two. I’ll aim to post a short something at the end of the week as usual, and then catch up on my reading after we return home.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Woodsmoke and coffee

I often wake up early. It isn’t out of a sense of virtue or a need to get to work or to make a fast start on the day. Goodness, no! I’m a light sleeper, and tend to stir once the birds start on their morning songs.

Our new tent has pretty good blackout, but not sound out. That’s fine by me because 6AM camping is one of my absolute favourite times. I like coffee and I like camping. Is there a better cup than the first of the day brewed on the Trangia – slightly blearily so somewhat carefully – when it feels like the rest of the world is still asleep?

The other day it was me and the birds and three deer. The deer stopped to have a staring contest. I won. They blinked first, before moving on almost silently through the trees once they decided I was no threat. Just me and my cup of far too strong (no such thing) dark roast.

All was calm and birdsong quiet if you know what I mean. Not entirely quiet, but in a good way. The forest floor was mostly still. In the tree tops, the rustling of leaves stirring on a gentle breeze. Those leaves! Green on bright green, and brighter still as the sun climbed higher, lighting up the day.

The mosquitoes and biting types didn’t seem too interested. A combination of my eau de bug spray by Muskol – lemony notes and a hint of, hmm, gasoline? – as well as the woodsmoke and charcoal aroma from last night’s campfire seemed to do the trick.

It’s safe to say not all is well in the world. Some understatement, that. However, temporarily disconnected and unplugged, it is safe to say that all was well, under canvas and over caffeinated, in the small corner of the world we found ourselves in.

Woodsmoke and coffee – not too sure it’s always the answer, and not too sure what the question even is, but it’ll do on an early summer morning camping in the woods.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

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