It took a week or two, but I eventually remembered we meant to try a beer or two from Ol’ Beautiful Brewing, having seen their delivery van at a nearby beer store. As we were making our choices, we learned that the taproom at Ol’ Beautiful was closed after a fire, but they were still brewing. OK, we’d best do our bit to keep ‘em up and running…
Still brewing
The Japanese-style lager came highly recommended, at least by the enthusiastic vendor, who told us it was the brewery’s biggest seller – well, chalk up another sale! It was pretty good, smooth due to the rice added from left over sake production (it doesn’t taste like a Bud) and fine if you’re after a lightish taste on a sunny day. Decent, but I prefer a beer with a bit more edge – and this leads us to beer number two!
Yum? Yup!
The second beer we tried was their American Pale Ale, and, if you’re a fan of hop-forward flavour, then this beer is a winner. Perfect for a hot summer day, or a mild fall day, or a crisp winter day. Oh, I’d probably (definitely) drink it in the spring, too. Yes, I liked this one!
K-country summer
So, where did you sample these ol’ beautifuls, OldPlaidCamper? Glad you asked – we took them with us on our recent trip to Kananaskis, camping near the Sheep River. The beers were just the refreshing thing after lazy days of reading, short hikes along or above the river and deciding if we needed a campfire or not. (Not, too hot!)
Definitely no campfire needed today – too hot
As for Sheep River Provincial Park, a new to us spot in K-country, how could we describe it in a word or two? Oh, beautiful. Perhaps I’ll share more about it another time.
Oh, beautiful
Thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful (long) weekend!
PS As I finish up here, writing on an unseasonably warm late August Wednesday morning, a long V of honking geese has just flown over. It might feel like high summer, but those geese and the occasional rust tinged leaf suggest otherwise… Is this farewell pale linens and hello plaid flannels? Soon, OPC, soon!
I mentioned a couple of weeks ago how much we enjoyed our stay in Irricana, AB, and that I’d include a bit more, so here it is. I’ll let the pictures do most of the heavy lifting, due to laziness or maybe being too relaxed to scribble very much.
I will say the Irricana campground is a great place to stop a few days. It has a rodeo arena (is that the right term? I’m no cowboy…) and there are a couple of baseball diamonds. Little league baseball on a Thursday night is a big draw locally, and there are often horse boxes turning up with young riders making turns in the arena. One quiet afternoon – no horses – I clambered up above the chutes and snapped a few photos. It’s the closest I’ll get to bronco riding…
Hold on to your hat!
Back to the campground. Clean and tidy, it’s run by Norm, former Stampeder and all round good guy. Zipping about on his ATV in sunglasses and Stetson, he couldn’t have been more friendly or attentive. I saw him help out so many campers, be it assisting with parking a large trailer, lending an axe for firewood, or rooting out a water hose if someone had forgotten it. What a guy!
“Hey, Adam, wanna beer?” “Maybe later, Norm – we just had breakfast!” OK, not strictly true, and I jest time wise (it was always after lunch), but an indication of Norm as a great host!
Eight seconds? How hard can it be?!Horse power
If you’re ever out that way and looking for a quiet (outside of Monster Truck weekend) place to stay, then Irricana might just be for you!
Monster, oops, I mean our modest truck, Irricana, AB
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
No trucks, no monsters, just larks and gophers – a lovely prairie trail to hike or bike Not just for cowboys – and how hard can it be?! Sadly for them, I can think of one or two who struggle with this…
…and we wouldn’t mind if we were still down by the river, but we came home after the third day of rain, and five nights out overall. It wasn’t the rain, it was the cold – it barely hit 10C for the afternoon high. Ok if you’re hiking, less so for sitting around enjoying the fire in between rain showers…
“Mountain” sector tent site – light that fire!
One afternoon we decided to revisit the microbrewery just outside the nearby village of Frampton. It wasn’t too busy, most likely due to the unseasonably chilly temperatures, but we received the usual warm and friendly welcome from the brewer on for the afternoon. We tasted a light lager, pretending it was late May, not mid-March, and it was pretty good, one for properly warm days ahead. For those, we stocked up on the raspberry sour we’d enjoyed so much last summer. It’s not a style I usually like, but this one is really good.
Last summer – raspberry sour on the left – yum!
I couldn’t resist a new NEIPA and bought a couple to savour later – slightly too strong but very tasty if you like a big hoppy beer. The last one we tried was only currently available on tap, so we’ll hope to return and buy a bottle/can or two – a new nut brown that was, for me, a perfect autumnal sipper. Goodness, I only had one sip but it was absolutely spot on!
Absolutely a good spot to be in
We weren’t only tasting beers or sitting by the fire or snoozing or in between snoozes – we also wandered up and down a couple of nearby trails. The vibrant fresh greens and bright new spruce tips were very welcome sights.
Happy trail
The rain and mist cleared from time to time so we were able to see longish views across the valley. The trail winds past a second section of the campground, a few walk in tent sites in the “mountain” sector. These are lovely secluded spots if you’re happy to hike up a steepish short way with all your gear.
Across the valley
One afternoon, mind and body suitably rested from the hiking, the scenery and the all round pleasantness of the Etchemin valley, I fell asleep and had the strangest dream. There was beer, spruce tipped and resinous, growing on trees. Oh, if only…
Can(ned) dreams come true?
Time to wake up! Well, this has been less sunny but not miserable, like a rested OldPlaidCamper during the second and rainier half of a camping trip. Apologies for the ridiculously long post heading this week, no idea how that happened. Sleepy brain?
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
After our desert wanderings last week, it’s back to our more usual everyday northern style for this one. No lemons and lots of snow. This means that we were able to get into the woods and plod along – gracefully, of course – on our snowshoes through the deep snow. Splendid!
Splendid
With daylight hours lengthening, and occasional almost warmth when the sun reveals itself, we’re seeing some of the small changes that add up to the approaching new season. Realistically, it is distant yet, but we sort of fooled ourselves that spring is (almost) in the air! Yes, the snow was deep, and yes, we were on snowshoes, but we could see change coming in the hints of new buds, birdsong above, and in the slight thaw after a period of deep freeze.
Not spring – but brighter!
Yes, it all points to the same eventual outcome even if it sometimes seems like it’ll never arrive. Our northern winter will end, in snowmelt, and we’ll begin to enjoy the pleasant anticipation (no matter how much I love a proper winter) of bright green days ahead. No, not yet, not yet, and not until we’ve finished playing in the snow, but spring is coming!
The right direction
Until it does, we’ll continue on skis and snowshoes, and I’ll complain about (but secretly enjoy) shovelling snow, so we can reward ourselves with an almost well earned dark beer or two at the end of the day – they go so well with the season! (Don’t worry, pale ales, I’ll get back to you soon enough. Another small change…)
A cheery beery reward
I think that is a cheery enough note to end on this week. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
“Spring is just around the next bend? Nope! But maybe the one after?”
I received a WordPress notification earlier this week informing me I’d been blogging here for ten years. Ten years?! Goodness, that’s quite a long time. Curiosity prompted, I went back into the archives to reread the very first post, one entitled “Why Plaid Camper?” It was a not so brief introduction and indication of what I hoped my bright and shiny new blog might be.
Little Bear Sunset (near Bozeman, Montana) – the first photograph on OPC
In the main, I think the vague aims and intentions I mentioned way back when have been met – mostly – and continue to be met all these years later. But then I would say that, even though I am totally unbiased…
Bow Valley beauty, AB – always a happy place for us
Blogging is inevitably somewhat self indulgent, and in that spirit I think I’ll take the next week or two to reflect on ten blogging years and repost a few favourite photographs representing some memorable moments and/or happy places. Like I said, self indulgent!
A fine BC beer in a fine location – thanks for humouring me back then, Wayne!
So here we go, the greatest hits that never were – or, less charitably, just some repeats and reruns. Is it “Why Plaid Camper?” as that first post asked back then, or more “Why, PlaidCamper?!” Or maybe, more simply, why not?
Little Bear Cabin, Montana – tops the list of my favourite cabins!
I’ll end this week (before some more rerun photos) by saying “thank you” to each and every person that has taken the time to read and/or comment here the past ten years. Those genuine connections are the real why. So, shall we carry on for another ten and see where we go? And wonder what that might look like? (Erm, probably like pieces about going for a walk, visits to a campground or two in a pretty setting, and often finishing with a glass of something good by a fire?) Oh, ok – put like that, not too bad, eh? Let’s keep it going – cheers!
Cheers! (Hardknott Bar, Woolpack Inn, Lake District, UK – great beer selection and the best company, even if my brother only drinks Peroni…)
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
“Thanks, friends!” (Taken at Dry Island Buffalo Jump, AB)A different AB good mood – oh those prairie days outOne of our very best days – thank you, Jet!Any day out and about with Scout always works for usAlberta river rush! A day on (not in) the water with friends is a good day
Not that much. Certainly not on Monday. An alleged billionaire started a new job, a second attempt at a position he has held before but mostly failed at. Maybe he’ll do better this time? I’m not sure he really wants it, since he keeps going on about Canada, something about wanting to join? I can understand that, as it’s pretty great here for all sorts of reasons. Maybe he can apply for citizenship after he’s finished/washed up once more? Don’t tell him – he’ll pout – but I doubt he’d get the warmest welcome…
Pretty great
Speaking of warm – what’s so great about the True North that causes the tangerine hued chap to cast covetous eyes on it? Could it be our wonderful winter? Maybe! We certainly have real winter at last – woo-hoo! Cue a Scout-like jump for joy – the end photo this week, one of our favourites!
A wolf in real winter (Scout, but you knew that)
Last Monday was quite cold, the sort of day that could frighten a wannabe strongman, send him scurrying indoors. (It takes more than a bit of chill to keep a real Canadian from heading out, so if he’s so keen to be a part of Canada, he’s going to have to toughen up…)
Troll hideout
Anyway, enough of avaricious/needy populists, wherever they might be lurking. On to more pleasant things. We enjoyed our Monday excursion into the woods, the first properly cold day of the year. Other than pausing for a photograph or two, we kept perfectly warm by keeping moving. It helped that the sun was out, with the winds fairly calm, so we could concentrate on admiring a sparkling white and blue day.
Winter! Woo-hoo!
The cold snap, or real winter, has stuck around and promises to be with us through the weekend and beyond. The windchills will diminish enough to make xc skiing a comfortable prospect – I like the cold, but didn’t want to let winter scour a layer of skin from my face as would have happened if we’d tried to ski this week. I’d end up looking like I’d had work done, some sort of weird face peel requiring orange makeup to plaster over the cracks. I don’t know about you, but I can’t quite imagine the necessary vanity to attempt that failed strongman look… Perhaps I could ski later today, another cold one, see what happens? Nah, we’ll stick to hiking speed for now, and embrace the bracing conditions.
The peeled look – ouch!
A big thank you to Jet for reminding me of the woo-hoo feeling winter can provide – it’s more than a simple distraction from what’s (not) going on more widely in the world – it’s actually the real stuff, the everyday delight that is there when I look for it, right where we are, right now. Shall we say it one more time? Why not – woo-hoo!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
We’ve enjoyed a few more sprinklings of snow and the temperature has stayed reliably low, so there’s still a white carpet out in the woods. With luck, and if forecasts are accurate, we should have received a sizeable amount more by the time you’re reading this. Please, please, please…
At the start of the week Scout and I had the local woods pretty much to ourselves. Other than the chattering squirrels still at work, and the occasional woodpecker and numerous small brown birds I’m unable to identify, it was mostly quiet. Tracks told us of hares and rabbits, and dogs and walkers out earlier than us, but we didn’t see another person each morning. (Mrs PC remained indoors at the start of the week, under the weather and recovering from flu shots, etc. On the mend now and she’ll soon be back keeping an eye on the children…)
The air was still, with fallen snow balanced precariously on even the most delicate of branches. As morning progressed and a bright sun rose, what heat there was caused snow to tumble, miniature crystal cascades shimmering down. A tiny bird flew across the trail in front of us and into the trees on our left, almost faster than my eye could catch it. Threading through the lattice of tiny branches, wing beats dislodging snow, white puffs betraying the flight path – that was some sight!
With her half curved tail a happy question mark, Scout is most definitely a snow dog, leaping ahead or nosing into snow banks or trying to catch a snowball. I can barely keep up. If there’s a downward slope, she’ll pull hard, trying to get ahead, reach the bottom – and see if I’ll fall? Sometimes I surrender on the steeper ones, putting one foot forward and then sliding down gracefully (you weren’t there, it was graceful) as if riding an escalator, disappointing Scout as I remain upright.
“There’s a good steep slope just over the rise that’ll get him, hehehe!”
Goodness, a couple of weeks into the new winter season and Scout is yet to see me tumble. Will my luck hold? Scout isn’t a gambler, more of a gamboller, but if she could place a bet, it would be on me being flat on my face, deposited into a snow bank at some point. There is a lot of winter to come, and many more walks in the winter woods, so she’s probably right…
“I’m always right!”
The little things in an outdoor season of wonder keeping us mostly balanced – thank you, winter! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A hint of proper winter! I know my delight in enjoying a “real” winter isn’t shared by all, but goodness, doesn’t a sprinkle of magic fairy dust, I mean snow, really help lift the mood?!
At last!
It was a race as to who could get out of the door and into the woods the quickest. Scout won, because shoe laces, but I was a close second and off we frolicked. Mrs. PC? Yes, she can do shoe laces as well, and she was with us but not racing. She plays it cool at first snowfall, letting the children make youthful fools of themselves and, quite rightly, feigning not to know us. Why Scout has to kick up snow into the air cackling madly I’ll never know – no wonder Mrs. PC hangs back just a little…
“Why have we stopped? Oh, shoelaces…”
The first decent round of snow wasn’t all that much if I’m honest. Enough to be noteworthy and not disappoint or disappear overnight. On notes, I always think the last remaining leaves look a little like musical notation, a gentle introduction or prelude to the full song and mighty majesty we’re about to enjoy. (This might tell you I was never a success musically in school or all the years after. Years of instruction and to this day I cannot read a note – how does that happen?)
Notes and leaves
What was I doing? There were recorders – instruments of musical torture in the wrong hands, and mine were so very wrong – and drums (“Adam, put the sticks down, you can’t play those unless you can tell me what these notes are?” No drums then…) and all sorts of sonic temptations, but beyond hammering at a glockenspiel I never really achieved much. Sometimes, I wasn’t even allowed a glockenspiel – just a single chime bar was the best I could expect. And even then I’d hit it at the wrong time, much to the music teacher’s delight I’m sure. Oh well. It taught me to be an appreciative audience instead. After all, if we’re all in the band, who buys the tickets?
“Yeah, I’ve heard him sing. Trust me, he’s not musical…”
On winter and music and buying a ticket, we were lucky enough to enjoy Les Violons du Roy perform all of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons a few weeks ago. My wonder and delight with Jonathon Cohen (conductor and harpsichord) continues – his ability to convey enthusiasm and joy and encouragement in his fellow musicians is something to behold. I’ve never seen or heard anything like it! I know the Four Seasons is probably overly familiar, but to hear it played as it was originally composed was very special. As special as the first winter snow…
First snow
Let’s conclude with that attempt at tying together a few loose strings and false notes – thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
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.
Hiding places
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?
The troll house (no trolls though)
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?)
Eye rolling moment
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.
Here be dragons? Don’t be daft, OPC
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!
As it turned out, the heights weren’t the highest we’ve hiked, climbed or scrambled in the past, but on a warm fall day, and starting at sea level, the near 1400 feet up felt high enough. Got an endorphin high for sure!
Get high
If you’re ever in the vicinity of Camden, Maine, and you’re looking for a mostly moderate (and, in parts, challenging) hike with spectacular views from the heights, then I heartily recommend the Mt Megunticook Trail at Camden Hills State Park.
Happy trails
The hike up through a red, gold and green mixed forest on well maintained trails is pretty special, and if the trail only meandered through the woods you’d be happy enough.
The bonus is, with a little leg and lung workout up some steep sections (steps made from rock slabs and a couple of short and potentially slippery boulder scrambles if it was a rainy day) you’ll emerge up top and enjoy amazing scenes over Penobscot Bay and across the low hills and mountains of the nearby Maine interior.
Some elevation
I’ll let the photos do the work this week – and, as much as I like these images, honestly, they don’t capture the magnificence of the place. You’ll just have to visit! You’d be dizzy with delight, I promise you!
Delight
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
OldPlaidCamper 