A short post this week, featuring cricket, and a few moans about feeling the cold. Cricket and complaining? Welcome to a PlaidCamper feel good zone.
After the storm
I’ve just returned from a walk around the neighbourhood, and goodness me, it was a tad chilly. The forecast had called for about -5C and a few flurries, but when we set off there was a hint of sunshine and no sign of snow, so I prepared accordingly.
Half an hour later, I was cursing my stupidity in opting for lining gloves only, and wishing I had a heavier beard. Blustery northerly winds appeared, blowing icy pellets sideways, and my delicate face was feeling the full needly force. Ouch! We scurried back as fast as we were able, along sidewalks coated in fresh ice created from the thaw-freeze of the day before. Tomorrow, I will attach ice cleats and wear appropriate gloves or mittens. The temperatures are a real yoyo this winter. Funny how -5C can feel colder than -30.
Riley Park cricket pitch, -30C
After the heavy snowfall last week, we went out to survey the scene mid-afternoon, as the snowstorm was easing off, and then the following morning, when it was cold, -30C cold, but skies were blue and the sun felt warm.
The Bow looked good, partly frozen but still flowing under the snow, and the Peace Bridge stood out, bright red and shiny, matching the winter berries you can still find along the river bank. The bridge is a favourite Calgary landmark of mine, although I’ve not crossed so often in recent months, with the noisy construction site on the south side.
Over the Bow
Staying on the north side, the Sunnyside, our closest park is Riley Park, where from mid-May until mid-September, you can sit on a bench and watch cricket. Ah, the thud of leather on willow, the smell of a linseed oiled cricket bat, the five days it can take to play a match (unless you’re the English cricket team, when losing an Ashes Test takes less than five days, sigh…) Yes, it’ll soon be spring then summer, except in Calgary. Spring will get here, eventually. Good thing I like winter – I even like complaining about it! Did I mention it was cold today?
They called the game off
Right, that’s enough – short, unlike cricket – I’ve got to go find those ice cleats. Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!
This week is written and filmed in low definition PlaidCamperScope, and I did all my own stunts. Not too sure where it is heading, rather weak on plot, but there is a happy ending.
With the ongoing grey and snowy skies, I thought I’d post photographs taken on a brighter winter day a short while ago here in Alberta. As I type this, the snow is falling once again – that’s fine by me – but it seems like we haven’t had too many of my favourite Alberta winter days, where it is about -10C and sunny. On a day like that, you can ski or hike or snowshoe for hours, admiring the sparkling air without feeling the chill. Maybe by the weekend?
We were back at Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park, on a still day with lots of sunshine, and just before the next round of snow. Chinook winds had eaten a fair amount of the ground snow, but there were still deep pockets in the ditches and hollows, and plenty of ice to catch us unawares.
We enjoyed the widescreen views to distant mountains, and the close ups of red berries and golden grasses poking through the snow. Scout enjoyed peeing on everything she decided she wouldn’t eat. Very discerning…
Parts of the park are in use as a working ranch, and I love the cinematic nature of the buildings, fences and tracks. If I had a low budget indie movie to make, one where mumbling Albertans play out their hardbitten dramas in a partially tamed yet still beautiful wilderness, I’d shoot it somewhere like Glenbow Ranch PP.
A grizzled, hardbitten yet optimistic semi-retired teacher, with the looks, but not the politics, of an older Clint Eastwood (squint and use lots of soft focus and imagination), fights heroically and stoically to convince Albertans of all stripes to diversify the economy beyond oil and gas and think about a future that doesn’t need fossil fuels. Met with disbelief, ridiculed for being too liberal and a jeep-driving hypocrite vegetarian, the laconic educator is run out of town and goes for a long walk in a provincial park, trying to think of a good ending, and wondering how well an electric car would work in a Canadian winter…
Sadly, most of my movie ideas barely fill the back of a postage stamp, and the scripts are rather brief – but they would be pretty to look at if they got made. Perhaps I should start small and very low budget – maybe I could direct a postcard?
My mind does tend to wander when I’m wandering in lovely locations, and I daydream about movies and stories, ones I’ve seen, and the ones still to be told. Living out west, or anywhere scenically dramatic, will do that to you I suppose. I hope future movie location scouts will still have outdoor locations worth scouting for. Post-apocalyptic dramas seem to be all the thing just now, but let’s hope they won’t be making these as documentaries in the future. I know there are “kitchen sink” dramas as well, but wouldn’t you rather see forests, lakes, rivers, natural deserts, mountains and oceans, both onscreen and for real? It’s not often I find myself thinking “I wish I could make a movie about this” when I’m doing the dishes, or “I hope this comes to pass” when a rerun of Mad Max is on, but maybe that’s just me?
Looking south-west on the Grand Valley RoadOn our drive home, this road warrior took the scenic route, meaning any road that didn’t get us back into the city too soon. Grand Valley Road lived up to the name, and I had to pull over and take a couple of pictures looking west as I drove the wrong way back on the 567.
Hey, Mad Eastwood, Calgary is the other way…I do love widescreen Alberta, but it is hard for me to capture it accurately in a photo. Still, these aren’t too bad for a cameraphone, a bit grainy – think 1970s 70mm film stock (I love the look of movies made then) – but they are ready for any of us to project a story onto.
Feelin’ lucky, road punk?Cut! And that’s a wrap. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend full of new outdoor tales and cinematic adventures!
The happy ending? Oh, ok, here she is. Upstaged by a canine co-star. Flounces off to his trailer…
“Just the one photo of me this week?” “Yep. Get your own blog!”
…through a brief post, and an overdue introduction! Ooh, the excitement and mystery.
Took a little walk out in the foothills the other day, visiting Big Hill Springs Provincial Park. It was an intermittently bright/overcast day, with temperatures hovering around the freezing mark in the hollows, but feeling a touch warmer when the sun broke through and we emerged into a clearing.
With the ongoing rounds of Chinook thaw, deep freeze, a few flurries, another freeze and the next Chinook, the path was well polished and icy, very slippery underfoot. By the time I’d skated and slid for fifteen minutes, I was considering turning around to fetch ice cleats from the car, but was too lazy – or too committed – to head back. I meant to forget them.
Not many other folks were about – I saw one dog walker and a couple of hikers (very sensibly wearing YakTrax) but otherwise, the trail was all my own. It meant there was no-one to admire my slipping, pirouetting, yet not quite falling routine that really was deserving of a wider audience. Perhaps a category in the forthcoming Winter Olympics? Senior Free Form Unequipped Non-Musical Semi-Skating? No form-fitting lycra or tights, just sensible outdoor trousers and sturdy shoes without cleats.
The spring fed stream was an absolute delight, tumbling downhill in a series of small waterfalls, twisting and turning through mixed woodland. Ice clung to deadfall logs and branches in the water, and grew from the stream banks, blue-white and beautiful to look at.
Yes, yes, PlaidCamper, a lovely walk and all, but you mentioned an overdue introduction? The suspense…
How did my companion fare on this short and slippery hike in the foothills? She was very steady on the ice, planting her feet with assurance, and scrambling easily up slopes that I was struggling to summit. I know what you’re thinking – Mrs. PlaidCamper always manages the slopes and slides, so why the big deal? Well, Mrs. PC was teaching that day, so who was with me? Time to meet Scout, the delightful dog pictured above, a five month old puppy who has been living with us since mid-November. On sand or snow, Scout is always happy to accompany an old PlaidCamper on a hike, short or long. No doubt there’ll be more about Scout over posts to come, but we don’t want to be like those new parents – you know, here, look at our new baby, I mean puppy, isn’t she beautiful? (She is, and sadly we do that, but I’ll try and exercise restraint…)
Not a dog photo here – such restraint!Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!
Oops, no restraint. Have you met Scout? Beautiful, isn’t she?
Every day of my recent stay in Ucluelet I went for a wander, rain or shine (mostly rain), and the wandering almost always included one or more of the docks dotted along the water.
I’ve written before about my complete lack of nautical skills, yet I’m drawn to the boats – I can’t help it. Is it in my genes? My Dad, or Old OldPlaidCamper, as he’s never called, did run away to sea when he was a boy. Imagine, a teenager in the merchant navy and seeing the world. He traveled to many parts of the globe before he met my Mum and settled down. He has told a story or two about that time, but I suspect there are many tales as yet untold.
Yes, that must be it – I’ve inherited the genetic possibility (huh?) of a life on the ocean waves. This makes sense – after all, I have almost completed Patrick O’Brian’s wonderful cycle of Aubrey-Maturin novels set in the British Navy of the early nineteenth century. Is that nautical preparation? I think so! Although, all those beautifully detailed and descriptive stories, and I still can’t tell a topsail from a topgallant, and I’m not too sure about a futtock shroud…(but I love that there are futtock shrouds – thank you, Patrick O’Brian!)
Back to the docks! Rain or shine! Port and starboard! Futtock shrouds to the rain, I say! The photographs this week are from a greyer day or two, when it was about to rain or had just stopped. As you can see, as well as the boats, I like the paraphernalia dotted about the vessels and docks, some of it appearing cast down at random, but it likely all has a purpose that my landlubberly eyes can’t figure.
I strode up and down every walkway, eager to see it all, slowing to take in each boat, stepping over a coil of rope, or the cables plugged into the big fishing boats. Every now and then an explosive splashing and flurry of wings would startle me from my daydreams, and I’d stop to admire the low flight of a duck I’d unwittingly disturbed, watching it scoot away across the water.
One morning, a Blue Heron was perched atop a piling, and remained unbothered by my presence on the dock. It looked very dignified up there, magisterial and generous enough to share the space. Herons, kingfishers, mergansers, bald eagles, gulls, and other birds I can’t name, were often present – it gets busy all about the water.
Big boats, little boats, new boats, old boats, grey boats, white boats, tidy boats, messy boats, boats for work, and boats for play – they all looked rather wonderful, moored up in the rain. Am I day-dreaming escapist notions from the global news storms that seem to sweep in every day? Perhaps, but being on the coast is retreat enough, and I wouldn’t want to disengage completely (even allowing for how our present day swirling and choppy political currents make becoming entirely unmoored a rather tempting prospect…)
Let’s be honest here – I’m happy enough to paddle a kayak or splash about in a canoe, but it is highly unlikely I’ll ever learn to sail and head out into bigger waters. I’d need a promise of endless calm water, and I think sailing doesn’t work too well on flat seas. Oh, futtock shrouds! No, this is absolutely fine, and I’ll stick to the fun that is the dreamy wondering and wandering around the harbour in these dock days of winter.
I was sailing under a watercolour sky the other day! The happy travels of a nautical PlaidCamper – it all sounds rather lovely…
Sadly, or wisely, I haven’t bought a yacht, and the vessel I’d boarded was a car ferry, the “Coastal Inspiration”, operated by BC Ferries. Perhaps not the most romantic boat on the water, but if you board early, as I did, your car ends up parked up front, with splendid views ahead.
“All aboard!”We’ve always been lucky whenever we take a BC Ferry – the weather has been kind. Given the amount of fog and rain the PNW receives, by now we should have had a murky or wet crossing or two, but so far, not too bad. Well, that’ll change next time, now I’ve gone and written that…
Leaving Duke PointAlthough it was blustery up top and in front, the sea and sky scapes were pretty amazing as we left Duke Point and headed for Tsawassen. Once again, the photos this week were taken on my camera phone. I have got to get back to carrying my camera – getting forgetful with the passing years.
What was I saying? Oh yes, the views from on board. Mountains on the island, and mountains on the mainland. The British Columbia coast is beautiful! Last week it was full of soft blues, greys, oranges, and pinks that made it seem like we were sailing in a watercolour. A little fanciful, but very enjoyable as we bobbed about on the Salish Sea. Truthfully, there was not that much bobbing, it being a large car ferry and in calm conditions, which was a good thing. The last time I was out in a whale watching zodiac, everything was wonderful when zooming along, but the rise and fall of the lightish swell when we stopped to observe whales left me feeling somewhat queasy and green – I almost made the water colour. Enough about that.
Taken with wobble cam, grainy cam, swell cam, landlubber cam…Anyway, a brief post this week to share a few shots of the sea and sky from last week. Back in the city now, and not particularly enjoying the round of chinooks and associated slush. Drip, drip, drip, and then overnight freeze, freeze, freeze, so the following morning we can all slip, slip, slip. Ah, all is well – a PlaidCamper with something minor to complain about.
You were here the other day – stop complainingThanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!
A contrast, weather-wise, with what was written last week. When will I learn not to mess with the weather gods? My delight at the sunshine and warmth we experienced (as most of North America shivered in far below seasonal temperatures) has since been tempered by more usual winter weather on the coast. It’s been raining almost non-stop ever since last Friday.
A pretty good view?A little rain, or a lot of rain, wasn’t going to prevent daily walks, but it has been interesting trying to spot a weather window, some gaps in the clouds to enjoy a dry(ish) ramble.
I like to walk for an hour or more – anything less makes the effort of tying bootlaces and doing up jacket buttons too much. Honestly, that’s true. A holdover from donning winter gear to go skiing, boarding or snowshoeing, I think. An inflexible attitude to match the physical lack of flexibility when putting on thermal socks, lacing winter boots, then reaching down and securing snowshoe fastenings. I get tired thinking about it…
ClamberingYesterday, I used my skill and judgement (there were fewer raindrops running down the windows) and chose the early afternoon to hit the Wild Pacific trail. There are several access points within a short walk from where we are in Ucluelet, and once you’re on the trail, if it is raining – and it was – you have some measure of shelter. I like to pretend it isn’t raining, it’s only the drops dripping down from earlier. Makes me think my judgement is good.
Rainy stumblingNot wishing to be the headline in a future news piece about being washed out to sea, I kept my clambering and stumbling far from the incoming waves, on the logs between the trees and the rocks. Oh, overcast but beautiful. Of course I’d forgotten my camera – all those distracting raincoat buttons – but snapped a few grainy shots on my phone.
Above my perchRemember that great weather judgement? So good that I was forced to stop and sit under a tree, because it wasn’t only drips, or ocean spray, it was rain. “It’ll pass,” I thought to myself, perching gracefully on a butt-sized tree root and leaning back gratefully against the trunk. I have to say, rain or not, I had a pretty good view. The scent of sea, wet wood and sodden earth was heady. The rain on my jacket, and the rumble of the surf just below was a welcome soundtrack. “I could spend some time here,” I said to myself. So I did.
Waiting it outTime passed. I ate my apple. The steady dripping grew heavier. More time passed. I nibbled the apple core. More rain. The afternoon wore on. The woody, stalky bit of the apple wasn’t too bad. “I think it is clearing?” Nope. More rain, and I drew the line at munching the appleseeds.
Taken from my perchSo it rained a bit, and then it did ease off, and grey skies grew a little lighter. I knew there’d be a break because the pattering was slightly less on my jacket, and I could hear, and then see, two bald eagles singing and circling on the rocks in the ocean in front of me. Not only had I forgotten my camera, I’d also forgotten binoculars. Never mind!
There is a bald eagle on each side of the shallow “U” – honest!It was fine to see one or other of the pair take off, circle, fly down and out of sight beyond the rocks and then reappear to land. They kept this up for quite a few minutes. Then one took off, flew towards where I was sitting, and veered to my right to alight on a tree over the little bay. Majestic!
Was it lighter, then getting darker, or darker, and getting lighter?The sky was changing back to a darker grey, and my inner forecaster decided it was time to head back. Sometimes slipping on the wet path, I tripped and stumbled but avoided a tumble through the rain and the trees, feeling slightly damp but delighted I’d stopped and seen the eagles on the rocks. What an afternoon for clambering and stumbling – but mostly sitting!
Heading backThanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!
I hear it has been a tad chilly across much of North America. I know this because my brother sent me an email the other day, asking if we could please take back the Canadian weather that has found its way into Maryland? Actually, he didn’t ask nicely, he wrote something along the lines of “take back this #*@%ing winter weather, my thermometer is reading -5F, I don’t know or care what that is in Celsius, but it is *#@%ing cold!” Well, I couldn’t believe that language from young brother PlaidCamper.
Not cold, no wind chillI do like snow, but I’ve been quite happy to miss the recent cold snap in Alberta, with the -25C (before factoring in windchill. Yikes!) Young brother PlaidCamper did once visit us in Alberta in midwinter, but I can’t repeat what he said on here. Oh, alright, just a snippet:
“#*^% $#@^ *&^% @#$% your winter!” Goodness me…
We were born in Britain, so talking and complaining about the weather is part of our genetic make up. Can’t possibly talk about emotions or feelings – perish the thought! – but we can say how the weather makes us feel. In dear old Blighty, that was generally miserable due to the cold and wet. Stereotype wildly? Me? Pish! Anyway, I knew I should help him out – I simply couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering and complaining about the cold. I sent him a few pictures taken on Wednesday this week, to add a precious ray of sunshine, show some brotherly understanding, try and thaw him out just a little (but mostly to annoy him and see if he believed I was in the True North!) Pretty sure his temperature went up.
Not cold, helpfulI couldn’t quite believe it myself. Warm sunshine and sitting on a beach late afternoon and into the evening, watching the sun set over the Pacific. Outdoors in January, in Canada, and I had to remove my toque, haha! Normally at this time of year, I only remove the toque to wash my hair or put on a snowboard helmet. My locks were blowing free in the sea breeze. Or they would have been, but male pattern baldness has put a stop to that. Yup, no hat, it was too warm. It isn’t often I can say I’m in Canada and in one of the warmest places in North America in January. I made sure young brother PlaidCamper knew that, let him bask second hand in the warm glow I experienced. I’m always happy to help.
Not cold, warm glow, slight breezeYoung brother PlaidCamper is planning a visit to Vancouver Island later in the year. We’re going to paddle and camp and sing songs around the fire. Hold on, what about that British reserve in our genetic make up? Quite right – we’re going to paddle and camp. I’ve said we’ll be camping in the woods. Best not tell him it is a rainforest. I haven’t mentioned the rain – I only send him photographs I’ve taken on sunny days – and I haven’t mentioned the rather low daytime highs in the summer. And I think I’ll keep quiet about the fog…
Not cold, no fogThanks for reading – I hope you are keeping pleasantly warm wherever you are this weekend!
Not cold, no rain in this forest…PS It has started to rain and looks set to stay that way for the next few days – don’t tell my brother.
The merest, barely discernible hint of rain (and slightly chilly?) Don’t say anything
My goodness, time appears to be flying by – and as we are all busy, I’ll keep it brief this week! Having said that, let’s slow down a little…
Farewell 2017
Can you hear it? Is that the sound of the year rushing to a close? The sun setting on 2017? If your watch is digital, and your clock doesn’t tick, does time have a sound? We’re at that point with the turn of the year when many like to look back and peer forward, a combination of reflection and anticipation. Tick and tock.
Clockwork and mechanical noises aside, how about enjoying the passage of time and measuring it differently – perhaps in the tides rising and falling on a beach? Forget about seconds and minutes, and human precision. Slow down a bit, and feel the flow of water to experience time passing. Time as a current, and as currency – it’ll pass and can be spent in different ways. I look forward to finding some time and space in a thawing lake, in the flow of a spring river, a light summer rain shower, those autumnal fog banks rolling in, or in a winter snowstorm or coastal downpour. The anticipation of time being well spent…
Rushing in
Why all the water this week? We’re at the coast, and water is never far from where you are on the Ucluelet peninsula. Inlet or ocean, puddles and streams, rain or fog, we’ve experienced them all this week, and it is a water world for sure. We’ve also enjoyed some bright days too, striding along Long Beach, keeping warm with a brisk pace in temperatures nosing just a touch above freezing. There’s beauty out here in any weather!
Frosty (yuletide and high tide) logs
We want to wish you good health, peace, lots of slow time and space to spend exploring and enjoying the natural world (rain or shine!) this coming year.
We also want to thank you for finding the time to read OldPlaidCamper – we really appreciate that you do, and enjoy all the stories and comments shared.
I think it is time for a suitably seasonal travel tale. How about a mighty mountain road adventure? All that follows is (mostly) true. If it helps, I hear the voice of Brian Blessed in the parts where there is a weather god laughing. I hope you know what I mean, there. Where is this going? Where were we going? Read on, if you have the time. We certainly had an interesting time as we travelled across Western Canada earlier this week.
A snowy Calgary? Nope. Another Chinook arch? Yup. Let’s pack the car, head to somewhere else!If you’ve read one or two of the more recent posts, there’s a chance you have spotted a recurring theme. Theme is too strong a word – it is more realistic to describe it as a repetitive sulk – where I might have mentioned a distinct lack of snow the past six weeks? So of course the day we decided to leave a little earlier than planned (due to the lack of snow, why stick around any longer?) and head to the coast, was the day the snow gods decided to heed one man’s whining:
“Is that another snow prayer from the plaid clad little man? We cannot and should not put up with his incessant complaining any longer – it’s headache inducing, and I already have a slight hangover and blurred vision. That new mead with the lavender honey is quite delicious, and rather potent too. Just look at all this snow we’ve made, it needs using. We can’t keep it in the house, erm, I mean the great hall, any longer, there’s no room for our new barrels of craft mead. That checked-shirted irritant drives a black Jeep. He was packing the car last night, so when he leaves later, let’s point the snow cannon at his vehicle. He wants snow? Then snow he shall have, hahahaha!”
You have to love the snow gods, they’ve got a great sense of humour. Snow gods do exist, don’t they? Not too sure about all the craft mead – and adding honey/drinking from a cup in the shape of a horn doesn’t make for a better beer. Still, I guess if you’re a weather god, you get to drink what you like from any cup you choose. Lavender, though? Shudder…
Canmore had snowOur trip got off to a great start! Approaching the mountains on Highway 1, we could see there had been snowfall. When we passed through Canmore, there was fresh snow! Yes, we did stop at Le Fournil to top up our coffee and buy a pastry for later…
Field had snowWhen we paused to pee in Field – my goodness it was cold there – they had received fresh snow. It looked properly wintry.
This wall in Revelstoke had snow (what a terrible photograph!)On we went to Revelstoke, stopping to gas up the car, and refill the travel mugs – Tim’s dark roast – and the first few real flurries of the day were starting to fall. Clearly the snow gods were recovering from their hangovers, and their blurred vision was clearing – the aim on our car was much better.
“Target this Jeep, hahahaha!”By Salmon Arm the flakes were really quite impressive, and along the valley towards Kamloops, the weather gods let loose with their celestial snow cannons! Big flakes in what we are more used to seeing as summertime high desert country.
“Hahahaha, he asked for it, hahahaha…”At Kamloops, the overhead traffic signs warned that the highway ahead was closed beyond Merritt due to heavy snow. Thanks, Drive BC, that was good to know. (There was no mention of annoyed snow gods targeting the route – essential information, but there isn’t enough room on the signs to include all the details or hahahas…) What to do? Stay in Kamloops or push on? We decided to press on – our motel room in Merritt was booked, and if the route beyond was closed, we could worry about that the next day.
“Snow, hahahaha!”Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Next time we’ll stop in Kamloops! Poking the sleeping – drinking? – snow gods is not a good idea. The Coquihalla Highway between Kamloops and Hope is a high mountain road that can get snow any time of year. On a clear day, the drive from Kamloops to Merritt is less than an hour. If the weather gods have you in their snow sights, it’ll take well over two hours, and it won’t be fun. I like driving, and I like snow, but sometimes it turns out you don’t want both. What kind of fool would offer up a prayer for snow?
The light was fading – it hadn’t exactly been bright all afternoon – and the snow was very heavy. Yikes, that part of the journey was a white-knuckle whiteout! I am forever grateful to the driver of the white pickup just in front of us. S/he had their hazard lights flashing, and from time to time, if they hadn’t been on, I’m not sure I’d have picked out the road quite as well in the snow and dark. We were stopping in Merritt anyway, but even if the road had been open further ahead, there was no way I’d have continued. It was a scary ride, and not helped by the occasional brain dead driver hurtling past in the unploughed lane. Hey, you brain dead drivers? Thanks for throwing up the extra snow, because honestly, it wasn’t challenging enough already. Do you have sight that allows you to see through a snowstorm at night? You do? Oh, my apologies, and what a gift…
A fine SN winter ale. It’s not mead.Anyway, we made it to Merritt, and after checking in and eating that pastry from earlier, I popped into a beer store and bought a horn of craft mead. Isn’t that something, mead by the horn in Merritt – who knew? Stepping outside into the cold and snowy night air, I raised it to the skies, and gave thanks for our safe arrival. I also put in an apology for all those pesky snow prayers, and made a request for clear skies the next day. No harm in asking. Then I hurried back to the motel. People were staring…
The Coquihalla Highway, the following dayWhat do you know, dawn revealed clear skies and an open road all the way to the coast. Thank you snow gods, and gods of weather and travel in general – I knew you were real, and you’re the best!
Lots of highway snow, and doesn’t it look lovely?“Hahahaha, that little fellow in the patterned shirts won’t be bothering us for quite a while, hahahaha! Ooh, the lavender honey really works in a horn of mead, doesn’t it? Fragrant! Is there any more?”
Thanks for reading, and if you celebrate Christmas, enjoy the coming weekend and beyond. Perhaps you’ll drink a horn of mead, hahahaha?
Just love them! And if the small town is also a mountain town, so much the better!
We went to visit friends in Canmore last weekend. Oh, wait a moment – before we get to that, what about the newish weekly PlaidCamper weather report/complaint? You really want to read that? OK, I’ll get it out of the way early – yes, there was some mountain snow, but it was all at higher elevations, nothing new lower down, and still no sign of snow here in Calgary. On the afternoon we headed for Canmore, the city afternoon high was 16C. Hmm.
The road to Canmore!Not as scorchio! as that in Canmore, but when we went for a short wander, it was still rather warm for the time of year. Luckily, Canmore made up for the lack of winter by being a small mountain town. Almost wherever you are in town, look up and around and you’ll see mountains, a constant reminder you’re nestled in the big outdoors.
If the weather isn’t cooperating for your hoped for adventures, Canmore has the right ingredients for spending time in a small town. Micro-brewery? Check! Visit The Grizzly Paw, either at the pub on Main Street or at the brewery on the Old Canmore Road. I wasn’t a huge fan a few years ago – many of their beers seemed too sweet and sticky to me – but when they opened their new facility and launched the Rundlestone session ale, I was a convert. (Also, I’m going to have to find a bottle or two of the seasonal Larch Valley porter before it sells out – oh no, another trip to Canmore seems in order!)
Above CanmoreCoffee shops? Check! Whenever we are passing through, we often (always?) stop at Le Fournil Bakery. Here you will find some of the best flaky pastries outside Quebec – that could be an exaggeration because we haven’t tried all the pastries in or out of Quebec, but the mission is ongoing – and excellent coffee. A quick stop often turns into a longer stop, and you might as well buy a baguette or a croissant or two for cabin breakfast the next day…
Main StreetIf you’re heading to a cabin, won’t you need something to read when you’re sipping your evening session ale by the wood stove? Independent bookstore? Check! If you’re down to the last chapter or two of your current read and didn’t pack another book, no worries. After your coffee, stroll over to Cafebooks and choose your next great read. It’s comfortable in there, and perhaps you’ll pause for (another!) cup of coffee, or tea. Go on, the cabin isn’t going anywhere, you’ve got time…
Fifteen minutes from CanmoreHungry? Maybe more time passed in the bookstore than you realized, and you fancy something to eat before moving on? Great restaurants? Check! I’m biased on this one, because Junior trained and worked at The Crazyweed Restaurant, but even if she hadn’t, I’d recommend lunch or dinner here. Great menu, good beer and wine selections, and an easy walk from where our Canmore buddies live, so no short straw game for choosing the designated driver. There are many great dining options in Canmore, but they didn’t train the next big thing in the culinary arts, so no mention for them…
Bow ValleyAlright, maybe that’s enough – I’m not being paid or sponsored by the town tourism board – but I really like Canmore! It is a lovely example of a small mountain town, and fun to visit in any season. Biking, hiking, climbing, paddling a canoe, clinging onto a raft in whitewater, skiing, snowshoeing, snowboarding, xc skiing, camping, horse riding, or simply wandering about the town, Canmore is a great base for Rocky Mountain adventures. (I get pleasantly exhausted just reading that list!) You could spend a week or two, make it a weekend visit, or a quick stop on a longer trip, and you’ll always want to return. You might even want to make Canmore your permanent home – this is what our friends did after many years of vacation visits. Good choice!
Hanging out above CanmoreThanks for reading, and if you’ve a favourite small town to recommend, mountains or not, feel free to share it in the comments. Have a wonderful weekend!
Time to meet Scout, the delightful dog pictured above, a five month old puppy who has been living with us since mid-November. On sand or snow, Scout is always happy to accompany an old PlaidCamper on a hike, short or long. No doubt there’ll be more about Scout over posts to come, but we don’t want to be like those new parents – you know, here, look at our new baby, I mean puppy, isn’t she beautiful? (She is, and sadly we do that, but I’ll try and exercise restraint…)
Have a wonderful weekend, and Happy New Year!
OldPlaidCamper 