Spring forward!

Let’s do that!

We spent an enjoyable weekend celebrating a friend’s 60th birthday. Some of us are slightly older, some of us (me) are much younger, but we mostly all agreed we’d hardly changed from the vibrant young things we all were last week, or last century.

Celebrating something, and why not? How about still being here?!

It’s likely we have fewer springs and summers ahead than we’ve already enjoyed, so each one left to us is one to look forward to but not rush. With that in mind, we’ve been planning a few spring and summer camping trips. Unbelievably, at least for someone who likes to pretend he knows a bit about camping and being outdoors, I don’t think I’ve slept in a tent since autumn 2022. Goodness!

Palatial

Part of the preparation – it’s getting to mud season here, no more skiing or snowshoeing so we might as well look ahead and be prepared – is checking out what equipment we have and what state it is in. We’ve had to acquire a new tent – our palatial green one seems to have gone missing. Hopefully it’s getting well used out on the wilder parts of the west coast of Vancouver Island!

My “work” tent! Retired, like me!

I do have and absolutely love my “work” tent, a tiny one person camping miracle perfect for backpacking and carrying onto small boats, but not one for two people and a dog. So a new tent it is.

Remote remoteness

For this coming season, we’ll be front country camping in sites accessible by truck. It’ll be sometimes somewhat remote, but not the remote remoteness we enjoyed on the coast. My brother has a new tiny teardrop trailer, and we’ll be meeting up somewhere twelve hours north of him and twelve hours west of us, to test out his new rig. I don’t think he’s done too much camping in the past, so I did mention there’ll be at least three (and maybe as many as five) mosquitoes where we’re headed. There, now he can’t complain about not knowing…

Find us here – twelve hours north and twelve hours west – you know the place!

So do your worst, mud season, we’ll get through whatever you throw at us the next few weeks – late season snow or rain or late season snow and rain – because we’re almost prepared to spring forward and land right side up, ready for the big outdoors! Boing! Squelch! Smile! Why, we’re hardly any older than the last time we were hardly any older…

Let’s wait a few more weeks. No need to rush…

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

Sunshine

The on and then off winter continues, with recent days being bright, cold and sunny after a limited snowfall.

Bright, cold and sunny

On falls, I had one myself recently, and I wish I could report it was dramatic, high tension, and high speed stuff. Sadly, it wasn’t. I was stood (almost) still on skis on a slight upslope, didn’t compensate enough and fell backward! Ouch! Was what I didn’t say. I won’t repeat that here…

Before the fall! (What slope, OldPlaidCamper?)

One sprained wrist later, I’m easing off both skiing and typing, so a brief post this week, and possibly next week as well, until both the dented ego and the sore wrist are restored.

If you tilt the camera, there’s quite a steep slope?

In the meantime, we’ll be enjoying the last remnants of winter this coming weekend with sedate and low risk walks in the woods. Looking ahead, I see another thaw in the forecast and very little snow. How and when will I get back on that horse— I mean skis?! No snow woe? Good thing I have a sunny disposition…

Cool

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

Genuine sunny disposition

Hidden dangers

Hidden dangers? Sounds exciting – they could be anywhere and everywhere. Goodness, let’s explore this some more – follow me into PlaidCamper dangerous daydream territory…

Lose yourself here? No…

I’ve rarely found outdoor places to be overly intimidating, preferring instead to enjoy and be amazed by the beauty of the natural world, at least as I’ve experienced it. I’m sure if I was ever truly lost in the woods, or really caught outside in an immediately life threatening situation, then I’d certainly feel trepidation, and be afraid. I don’t leave home unprepared, but perhaps I’m getting complacent? I should snap out of it, because maybe it’s not so safe out there…

Mostly though, I’ve been outdoors in relative safety, often due to the company of more experienced fellow travellers, people who’ve taught me, as necessary, how to safely navigate the genuinely wild and remote places we’ve found ourselves. I count myself very fortunate to have been taught and trained by so many tremendous individuals.

A touch sinister? Follow me, it’ll be fine!

But what about those hidden or unexpected dangers? Do you ever wonder how you’d truly fare if you found yourself in a serious and dangerous wild situation? I think about this quite often, although I don’t go out of my way to seek danger. It’s just… suppose danger finds you? There’s always something lurking in the woods, isn’t there?

Recently, I’ve noticed that sometimes I’ll wander along and daydream, somewhat inattentive, almost complacent because I’m walking in woods mere minutes from our current home. I’ve yet to see bear or wolf tracks, so it’s all good – isn’t it?

Calm down, imagination – just shapes in the snow, they aren’t creatures…

A little while back, I fell behind Mrs. PC and Scout, mostly because I’d been dawdling, stopping to take a photograph or to look at a particular tree up close. Distracted, I stepped off the trail in a spot a bit more overgrown than the surrounding area. It was heavily blanketed by recent snow and my snowshoe went down and then down some more.

Deeper snow off the trail

Struggling to extract myself, something on the far side of the nearest tree positively exploded into motion, up, off and away. You should have seen me jump up, out and back on the trail, heart hammering. In this place I’ve never seen tracks for anything larger than a deer or another person, so I’ll assume it was a deer. I didn’t see what it was – too busy waiting for my overactive imagination (everything ran through my mind, so many possibilities – fortunately, nothing ran out of my undershorts) and my pulse to calm down…

Yup, deeper snow – anything over the edge?

Once I’d steadied myself and caught up with Mrs. PC and Scout, (my outdoor cool and nonchalance restored, acting like I’d never been, you know, even slightly startled) it was back to daydreaming, asking how I’d cope in a dangerous or unexpected situation?

Seems like being taught and actually learning might be two different things. As for what might really get me out there? Well, why worry about a bear when a deer combined with an overactive imagination might do for me. How would I really cope? Hmm…

Daydream territory

PlaidCamper caught daydreaming – I’ll say I had a wake up call! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

The silver trees

It’s been an on and off sort of winter, and speaking for myself, I prefer a steady seasonally appropriate winter rather than a surprise thaw followed by a freeze followed by a thaw. Mud season can wait! Those lumpy with slush to ice sidewalks can wait! It’s a thaw point for me.

Winter

We did get into the local woods fairly recently, a decent snowfall providing some fun snowshoe conditions. We plodded and Scout scampered – I really do think snow is her favourite substance (or second favourite, just behind anything a dog can safely eat. Or unsafely. Fortunately, not too many incidents like that…)

“It’s not edible?! Now you tell me…”

We’ve heard a bit more bird song on our recent outings, and last week a woodpecker flew across the path ahead of us, landed high and crept up and down a tree trunk looking for good things. A red head! Was it a pileated woodpecker? I honestly don’t know, but it was lovely to see.

Quiet

The silver bark, green needles and a light dusting of early morning snow made what could have been a monochrome morning somewhat brighter than that. It was cold, but not so cold we couldn’t stop and sit to enjoy the quiet and a dusty muesli-style bar. Sort of healthy, but maybe go back to carrying chocolate? Just a (sensible) thought…

Who brought snacks?

No amazing glass trees, and no graceful gliding, but the silvers and greens and our steady snowshoe plodding after a fresh fall worked a different sort of wonder for us! The latest thaw is behind us, and I believe both more snow and appropriately steady seasonal temperatures are in the forecast…

Portrait of a plodder

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

Silver
“You sure I can’t eat this?”

Kick and glide

That’s the idea when xc skiing, isn’t it? Kick and glide! Yup, we got out for our first xc skiing trip this winter. Our first time on skis for many years, and, just like riding a bike, it’s perfectly possible to fall off.

Not that either of us did, but only because we were sensible enough to stop when we found ourselves tiring. I’m often told I’m tiring…

The ghost of ski trips past…

Muscle memory, or the memory of once having leg muscles went some way towards keeping us on track. We went to the flattest part of the Plains of Abraham to test ourselves. It wasn’t too much of a trial, the morning being bright, the sky shining blue, and the sun bouncing off brilliant white snow. A crisp and sharp winter morning where it feels so good to be alive.

Flat – good choice

On brilliant, I’m happy to share that I invented a new “kick and glide” technique that isn’t in any of the instruction manuals or guides to xc skiing. It involved a complicated and (un)coordinated set of movements likely missing both a kick and a glide, and yet it still somehow propelled me forward. Remarkable!

She knew her stuff! Unlike a certain someone else…

I suspect the gradual lowering of my centre of gravity in recent years, certainly those years since our last ski trip, coupled with a possibly stylish and rakish into-the-wind lean (mostly the first stage of the ever present possibility of a fall – never happened) was what provoked gasps of amazement from our fellow skiers. I think they were gasps, might have been curses, but I couldn’t be too sure, as I didn’t dare break my concentration…

Still flat!

Anyway, having survived this first outing, and managing almost an hour of high speed circuits, we’re looking forward to getting out there again soon. We might even take on a gentle downhill or two, and then see how we do on the uphill parts! Kick and glide, huff and puff, and how about coffee and cake after?

Finished – where to for coffee?!

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

Be careful what you wish for…

…the universe might be listening!

A short post this week, because if we take even a ten minute break from snow shovelling, it’s like we never even tried. Who was it complaining about no snow? Hmm…

“I remember this stuff – it’s snow, isn’t it?!”

Before the heavy snow arrived Tuesday overnight and all day Wednesday, we had enjoyed a couple of lighter snowfalls. Scout and I went out to play in the woods, happy to be there in less muddy and more wintry conditions.

Happy place

Mrs. PC has been getting over a cold (she’s much better now) and was happy to have the children out from under her feet for a while. Reminded me of when I was younger, and we were sent out to play. I think the instructions were along the lines of “Look after each other, be back before dark, and don’t get arrested!” Instructions from my mother, not Mrs. PC, although my woolly hat, her scratchy voice, and Scout’s eagerness to get out the door muffled clear directions… Anyway, off we went, looking for trouble.

Looking for trouble

We scrambled up a few snowy slopes, mostly because Scout wanted to visit the troll house, throw a few snowballs, and see if they were hibernating. Trouble is her middle name. I think she also wanted to see if I’d slip over climbing the inclines to the troll house. Trouble, I tell you. When we get home, I’m telling mum…

Stayed on my feet. Mostly.

We didn’t wake the trolls and I didn’t fall over – it was a controlled slide, Scout. We argued over what constitutes a fall, and we argued over if trolls really hibernate. On the second point, my clinching argument was asking Scout if she’d ever seen one in winter? Ha! Case closed.

The troll house – shh, they’re sleeping…

No trolls spotted, no bad falls, playing outside without supervision or needing the long arm of the law – not too bad. If we include this past weekend along with the many previous decades of playtime, speaking for all four brothers, and also for Scout, I think it’s so far so good on the not getting arrested front. That’s possibly, like a Tory setting targets you can’t miss (but still screwing everything up), a low bar? Scout made me say that. I’m telling mum.

Scrambled up, didn’t fall down

Right, on that “what story this week?” note, let’s leave it here, get back outside, and see if we can locate the shovels to restart digging operations!

I thought we’d finished, but the universe said no…

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

Even the snowman took shelter

The glass tree…

…and a novel idea, inspired by one of the greats. Be warned, I’m an all over the place PlaidCamper at the start of this new year – little of what follows makes any sense. Cabin fever?

Earlier this week a sprinkling of overnight snow and a bright blue sky morning created the glass tree:

The glass tree, in the next door garden

Given the absence of significant snow for most of December, we were happy to see the shiny and shimmering tree! It didn’t last, but what a sight to lift the spirits. Now, as I write this, it appears we might be at the start of some proper snowfall for the next day or two.

From the office, looking out over our street – snow (and a happy snowman)

Maybe, just maybe, we’ll be heading out on xc skis next week, or even sooner? I can picture it, two confident characters gliding across pristine snowfields and under glass trees, the very essence of beautiful wintry elegance. Like, like, oh, I don’t know, two romantic yet annoyingly likeable figures in a great Russian novel?

Wintry dusting

Where did that come from?! Due to the lack of snow (have I been mentioning that?) we’ve spent more time than usual indoors. Industrious and happy to be in the kitchen, I’ve kept up with baking and eating mince pies. I have to say, they are generally easy enough to make, but my second batch was woeful. Woeful I tell you sir! I’m so terribly, terribly sorry. If I keep baking so badly, whatever will become of us?! Oh, and we have been watching the BBC adaptation (first broadcast 2016) of War and Peace.

I’ve never read the novel, and have to say, knowing nothing of the story before watching, the drama was a blast. The major real events aside, I had no idea what was going to happen, and enjoyed guessing – quite wrongly most times – what might unfold. There were quite a few coincidences and contrivances as the plot barreled along, and these were sometimes hard to accept. To get to better grips with this, I’m going to have a go at reading the novel, and also see if the characters are a bit less broad and maybe more nuanced compared to the adaptation we saw.

Here’s a character!

These were minor quibbles in the grander scheme of the overall experience. It was certainly quite the production, and must have been an expensive enterprise. The grand palaces and houses, the elaborate sets and astonishing costumes were all marvellous, and the large scale battle scenes were convincing. Far better than the usual “five men running past and then around the back of the camera to the front again through the smoke” effect some lower budgeted productions suffer from. The acting was pretty good (to be fair, there was also some capital A “Acting” from one or two, but I always enjoy that in a costume drama) across the enormous cast of characters. Highly recommended if you’ve got an hour or six to spare this winter. Fabulous entertainment!

Before I finish my comments on War and Peace, I do have to mention one thing. I wasn’t going to, but honestly, it’s been haunting me. It is one of the all time great novels, PlaidCamper, and as such, full of insights into what drives humans to do the things they do – for love, honour, greed, power, revenge and so on – we’d expect you to have questions and be haunted. Well yes, all that stuff and the other things I wrote above about high production values, little expense spared, and good acting etc. But, and this might just be me, was I meant to be quite so involved with Prince Vasily’s wig? (Played by Stephen Rea – Prince Vasily, not the wig) I say wig, but was it a wig? Maybe it was his own hair? Bouffant? Coiffure? Sculpture? Creation? Hair piece? Small cat or spaniel? It was a thing of beauty, and I couldn’t stop staring at it. It captured my attention immediately and almost completely. What story? A mighty battle at Borodino, thousands of casualties and Napoleon’s army is approaching Moscow? Uh huh, sure, whatever, sounds serious, but will Prince Vasily’s wig be safe? Will it volunteer to fight the invaders? Now, bear with me, but had it volunteered, I think Vasily’s wig, acting independently of Vasily, could have ended the war. Both sets of soldiers would have been so distracted they’d have forgotten about the bloody fighting… Honestly, it’s on such small details the course of history can change. In my head, anyway.

Is he still going on about that wig? I think I’ll stay asleep until he stops…”

I believe Stephen Rea was aware of the hair because he kept waggling and raising his eyebrows and smiling at me in a knowing way – he really shouldn’t break the fourth wall like that. Outplayed by a wig, perhaps Stephen was asking for help or trying to dislodge the competition? Mrs. PlaidCamper wasn’t getting the same wiggy vibe, and, if you watch the series, maybe you won’t either. I said to Mrs. PC it was hair loss (that bit works best if read in a heavy Russian accent) she couldn’t see what I could see…

Canada winter – is like Russian winter, no?

Goodness, that was a long aside, almost like a, like a, oh, I don’t know, an unlikely contrivance in a nineteenth century novel.

Where were we? Oh yes, gliding across the snowy plains. In truth, at least one of us will be absolute-ski exhausted after the first half hour and wondering where the nearest cafe is. Our plan is to tackle the flattest trails on the Plains of Abraham, so finding a cafe nearby won’t be too difficult. A very well earned hot chocolate, and if there’s a pastry, why not? With all this new snow, we’ll be needing extra pastries to maintain a sensible calorie balance. (My thumbs are already on – or is it off? – the (nonexistent) scale, like an unscrupulous merchant in a nineteenth century novel…) Are you tired of this yet? Tired, like you can get reading a long nine- Please, stop it PlaidCamper!

Almost done! I went out with Scout a little earlier, and she was thrilled to be able to dig, even if the snow wasn’t really deep enough:

Digging it
“Oh. Nothing there. Somewhat shallow, PlaidCamper! Could you turn the camera away – I’ve dug the hole, might as well pee in it!”

Scout! We are out in society! If you behave like this, whatever will become of us? Consider our audience, madam! And what’s this about shallow? You certainly know how to wound a fellow…

I shall leave it here for this week, ego bruised, feeling fragile but not shattered, like a, like a, oh, I don’t know, a glass tree or an overwrought character in a – I’ll stop, you know how it goes…

Goodness, you’re still here and have a question? What about the novel idea, PlaidCamper – you mentioned it at the start? Oh, that. I’m no nineteenth century novelist (no, no, really, and thank you, you’re so very kind) but I was inspired by old LT to have a go at a short story of my own. It’s about a famous actor, his wig, a down on his luck baker and his incontinent pooch. The title? “Woe & Pees!” Yup – when the BBC drama department comes knocking, I’ll let you know.

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

“Oh come on, PlaidCamper! Wounded? Really?! Stop sulking – I forgive me! Now, have you seen the new snow? Let’s get out there!”
This was the new snow yesterday – phew! Let’s get out there!

An almost true tale of terror

Scout is an adventurous dog. She’s first out the door, first to pee in the driveway, first to pee in the woods (I’ll let you decide who’s second – in the woods, not the driveway…) and really, not too much fazes her. Sensibly enough, she’s irritated by flat earthers, election deniers, liars, folks of that ilk. Don’t get her started on Brexit, Braverman, Boris and all that nonsense – life’s too short, though not as short as Sunak’s time left in No. 10, teehee…

So, she’s adventurous enough. Got snow? Yes please! Mud? Why, let her at it. Sandy beaches? Let’s run and run! More snow? Yippee! Water? Screech of brakes sound. Er, no. Nope. Absolutely not.

Not even a shallow puddle? Let’s find the long way round. Incoming tides? Forget about it. Backyard sprinkler? Nooooo. All that time on the island, loving the beaches but never the water.

Opened up

Our local woods have a few damp places, and in some spots along the trail there are ankle to knee deep puddles after prolonged rain, but we (mostly Scout) always find the detours. Now the woods have opened up after most of the leafy undergrowth has died back, we’re discovering different trails, perfect for Scout to get into expert snow tracker mode.

“Yup, these are definitely tracks!”

Her new favourite story – thanks, Bob – is The Wendigo by Algernon Blackwood. She likes an old fashioned tale of terror, where things are so indescribably horrific the author/narrator almost cannot describe them. Now that’s scary. Almost as disturbing as me liking the name Algernon.

Hiding place

The Wendigo takes place more than a century ago, in the north woods in late fall as the first snow is coming. A hunting party falls prey to something. There are strange tracks, unpleasant odours, and frightening sounds. People disappear. What’s out there? Is it the Wendigo? Highly recommended, a hugely enjoyable read, but not one to think about too much in the late fall at dusk in the woods.

But Scout will think about this tale, wagging her tail, just as the sun starts to set and just as we’re as far from home as we like to get. She’ll start at the sound of a squirrel – or was it?! – scrabbling in the undergrowth. If she wore them, she’d have wet her pants when a grouse or similar did it’s exploding out of the shrubs thing, startling me (just a little, don’t believe her…)

Full stop

So when she stopped dead in her tracks and stared intently ahead, into the woods with the trail going up a steep incline and out of sight, was I bothered? In Wendigo country? As darkness falls? No, no, not this close to home. Right?

We stood still, and the woods stood still with us. The squirrel was long gone, and there wasn’t even a breath of wind to rustle the last of the leaves. All was quiet. No, wait, what was that thumping sound, faint but quite insistent? Wendigo footsteps on a steady and stealthy approach?

Incline

Nope, just my heart, finding a more normal beat after the double whammy of the steep slope and that damned grouse thing…

We got going again, deciding not to tell any more woods based ghostly tales until we got home. Ignoring the chill and totally not faking how brave we were, on we went, up over the rise and then picking our way down the slope, taking care not to slip on the combination of partially frozen leaves and icy snow. Scout did stop to point out the stone house where the troll lives, but they weren’t home and we weren’t hanging around.

The troll house

Then we came to the worst part, so horrific it’s almost indescribable – Scout doesn’t want me to go there, but I will. This new terror? An even bigger squirrel? Two grouse? Grouses? Grice?! (A terrifying new plural?) No, bad as the grouses can be, this was much, much worse. It was a raging torrent! Treacherous looking icy banks and deathly cold black water gushing downstream.

“Yeah, not too sure we can cross this – it’s pretty fierce!”

Did Scout want to cross it? Nope. We debated retracing our steps, but knowing the horrors we’d already almost encountered, how could we go back? The troll might be home. The squirrel might be hungry. I can’t (and possibly shouldn’t) even write about the grouses. Instead, Scout scouted up and down stream, looking for a place to cross, knowing she’d have to face her worse fears and dip a toe in the water.

And then, just as I wasn’t ready, she stepped back then leapt forward to clear the raging torrent in one mighty bound! I was so happy she made it across, and even happier that the short leash she was on wasn’t any shorter as I narrowly avoided falling in. Now that would have been horrific – I can’t even begin to imagine the grousing had that happened. Disaster averted, I took a short step (Scout here – he meant to write “giant leap”) and followed Scout over.

Yes, quite the leap…

Somehow we made it home. Somehow, I managed to open a beer and drink it. Somehow, I’ve managed to recount this tale of terror. And somehow you’re still here reading…

Somehow managed to open and drink this one (a very good stout!)

So there you have it, a tale that isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s one that (no doubt about it or you can call me Algernon) will be whispered and retold around many a winter campfire in years to come.

To be fair, the scariest stuff here this week is in the first paragraph. We do love scary woodsy tales but that isn’t how we find our local forest – not even the streams faze us, do they Scout?!

Algernon? Did you hear that?!”

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

Woodsy wanderings

After all the excitement prompted by the first (heavyish for the time of year) snowfall last week, we managed to calm ourselves and continue to enjoy the woods even after the snow disappeared pretty quickly. The granite greys and golden browns haven’t been as dull as that might sound, and there were still patches of snow to provide contrast.

Light chill

In fact, our woodsy wanderings took place on almost warm days – warm as in a few degrees above freezing and under mostly blue skies. There’s a real delight in seeing the shape of trees that have lost their leafy cover. The woods are more open, the views are a little longer, and we can see the very healthy looking grey and black squirrels being busy in their autumn work. They dash and scamper, with an occasional pause to confirm we’re no threat, and then on they go. To say scamper makes it sound like they’re being frivolous, but that’s not really fair or true. Goodness, don’t they work hard?!

Snow?

The tree bones in the woods near our house are much more slender than the mighty western cedars and hemlocks we were used to back on the island. I’ve enjoyed that difference, and the crunch of leaves, as well as the less damp and somewhat drier mustiness of an eastern fall.

Snow!

As I write this a few fat flakes are starting to fall, and they’ll likely continue to do so with increasing frequency as real winter approaches.

Golden brown – and chilled, squirrels and all…

What’s left of the last of the leaves will be buried under deep snow, and any crunching will be of an icy nature. What a wonderful fall it has been, and what a wonderful winter we’re looking forward to! Our woodsy wanderings will continue, slower paced by being on snowshoes or in winter boots through deeper snow. Maybe we’ll speed things up from time to time on xc skis – if we have enough muscle memory to remain balanced enough to get away with it. A winter on skis? It’s been a while…

Woodsy, positively spruce-y

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

First snow of the season!

A bit earlier than we expected, and it didn’t stick around too long, but it was a welcome first sight of what we hope will be an enjoyable outdoorsy winter. (Ask us about that again in late March…)

A light dusting!

Scout was absolutely thrilled to see the snow and couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. Fortunately, our door and front gate is each wide enough to accommodate one excited canine and one excited human at the same time. C’mon, Scout, it’s not a race…

“It was, and you lost!”

The total amount didn’t top out much over a handful of centimetres, but it was enough to kick and slide around in, and it remained cold enough to still look pretty the following day, quite dazzling under bright blue skies.

It’s melting… (photo: Mrs. PC)

Mrs. PC managed to calm Scout (and me) down, explaining that there’ll be plenty more snow the next few months and wondering if we might be a little less excitable, ‘cos it’s a long winter? I can’t speak for Scout being less excitable about snow, but I’ll try. Although, whisper it, it was Mrs. PC looking up local xc ski trails and searching out the snowshoes in the basement. Cool!

Cool

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

Very cool
A few days earlier…
…and a few days later!