Last weekend, we were holed up in a Yoho cabin. Not as fugitives – it was too late for that. The long reach of bacteria had caught up with us and we were suffering from students being overly generous with germs. This is a brief post, scribbled as I quietly recuperate…(He’s fine, it was nothing more than a cold – Mrs. PC)

Not being one to complain, I stoically sniffled and snuffled all through the weekend, bravely depleting the cabin stock of tissues. As I dealt, quite heroically, with my mysterious malady (it was a cold – Mrs. PC), Mrs. PlaidCamper quietly put me to shame by dealing with her far worse cold, um, quietly.

Instead of getting out and about, we had to settle (quite happily) for gazing out of the windows into the woods, or at the falling snow, or at the misty mountains. Those of us that could see the mountains through watery eyes…(He had a cold – Mrs. PC)
Honestly, if you’ve read this far, thank you! If you’ve checked out already, I understand. I’m not one to complain.
Eventually, using my iron will and enormous amounts of determination, I agreed with Mrs PlaidCamper that a gentle stroll around the town might – just – be manageable. (It was – just – a cold – Mrs PC)
We tottered through the tiny town, enjoying a break in the weather, the views, the clean air, and gingerly negotiating icy sidewalks. It looked like I was clinging to Mrs. PlaidCamper for support, but I was simply offering an arm. (??! – Mrs. PC)

With temperatures hereabouts bouncing up and down, it is hard to say if spring is really just around the corner, or if winter is going to cling on a little longer. Having courageously survived this medical mystery, this illness as yet unknown to science (a cold – Mrs. PC), I am hoping for a few more weeks of snowy fun, perhaps another month or two, before conceding that spring is here. You can be sure, either way, that I won’t be complaining about it.

Anyway, a short post this week (I don’t want to go on about it, but I haven’t been well), thanks for reading, I hope you are well, and have a wonderful weekend!
All photographs this week were taken from the cabin or on our short walk around Field, BC. How I managed to carry the camera, lift it, get it in (almost) focus, and battle my ailments…(Only a cold, nothing more – Mrs. PC)





Highly recommended as a thoughtful and off centre read about trees, I thoroughly enjoyed Wohlleben telling how, over many years, he redefined his relationship to the trees he works with, evolving from logger to conservationist. His notions about trees being a “wood wide web” of communicating and social entities, beings that taste and smell, are a challenge to conventional thinking. He isn’t a sentimental tree hugger, he acknowledges trees have a commercial value, and he explores and explains different, less destructive approaches to harvesting.
We certainly enjoyed our deep powder snowshoe hike along the riverbanks and through the trees. As we retraced our steps, I was hoping to spot the dipper we’ve seen several times along this stretch. I’d just told myself to be content with the day, dipper or no dipper, when I caught sight of it out the corner of my eye. Splashing and bobbing upstream, then dipping below the surface to pop up a few metres downstream, this was a fine way to complete our walk. No dipper photos, but a happy memory.
Thanks for reading, please feel free to share a story, and have a wonderful weekend!




Maybe not the finest day weather wise to be out and about – no bright blue skies or fat falling flakes – chilly, windy and grey could be one way to describe the day, but there was plenty to see and savour in a more muted way.
Thanks for reading, I always appreciate you taking the time, and have a wonderful weekend!

We were on the Saddleback trail a little while ago, and it is a fine place to be. Searching for some outdoor peace on a crowded January weekend near Lake Louise, we watched where most folks were heading from the parking lot, and then went in the opposite direction. We are wily PlaidCampers…
With the narrow track winding through tall trees, there was an almost tunnel like effect at times, with branches overhanging the trail and dumping clumps of heavy snow if we disturbed the dangling limbs. Dump clump? Well, alright! Ahem. The heavy blanket muffled most noise, so there was a real stillness and quiet to the forest.
Plodding along and enjoying the walk, I got to thinking about taking a trail ride in the summer. Would I enjoy it? The few horses I’ve ever ridden always appear to have a tremendous time. They’ll take a route under the lowest boughs, and close to rough trunks simply to see if I can hang on. I can. Last time out, I slipped just a little in the saddle. Or from the saddle. My butt was lower than my knees but I think that’s a riding style. A slight twist on side saddle? Definitely didn’t fall off. It’s not falling off if you don’t touch the ground.
Maybe I’ll stick to hiking. Supposing I’m out riding on a narrow mountain path and we meet a bear? The horse would rear up, I’d fall off – the last couple of feet or so, being close to the ground already – and then there’d be headlines. Nope, sticking to hiking. I’m a wily (and news shy) old PlaidCamper.
We enjoyed the Saddleback, and would take it again. It’s a quiet spot in a sometimes crowded part of Banff National Park. Recommended, certainly in winter, and if you’re a brave soul, perhaps you’d enjoy it on a horse in the summer?





















Oh yeah, it was life in the slow lane, and that’s pretty good. We had the riverside blues that lift you up. Don’t worry, I’m not going to write a song about it. Or sing. I’ll leave it there, all peaceful and with the faint hope The Boss might one day write that snowshoe song.






Wayne was patient as his two “helpers” assisted with moving his Zodiac from the boat shed and down onto the water. I suspect it is all rather easier without our assistance…
A new boat for Wayne, it’s maiden voyage under new ownership, everything was fine until it started shipping a little water. Problem solver that he is, Wayne soon realigned the outboard motor to prevent any further water intake, and I stopped eyeing the distance to shore and fiddling with the lifejacket.
What an absolute thrill it is to be skimming across the waves (when the swell or waves are light – the choppier water gave our nether regions an unspeakable pounding), zooming up and down channels, past rocky islets on the lookout for wildlife in, on, by and above the water.
The further we travelled from Tofino, the fewer signs of human habitation we saw. Salmon farms, a houseboat or two, the occasional dwelling on the edge, and a few boats plying the waters. When the engine was cut and we drifted, gently bobbing up and down, the near silence was magical. A breath of wind, a small splash or two, and it was perfect.
What a place to explore! Fortune Channel? Indeed. What a trip we had. Along Browning Passage, through the Tsapee Narrows, past Warne Island, into Gunner Inlet, and being tranquil all the way, this was a fine evening. Experienced and with an eagle eye, Wayne was quick to spot wildlife. We saw some harbour seals, a few bears, including a mama and clambering cub (so beautiful), and breathtaking landscapes and cloudscapes in the fading light.


