Well, we did go xc skiing earlier this week, but I wouldn’t say we were brave…
Black diamond 55? Not that brave (not yet!)
A touch wobbly perhaps, given the course hadn’t been track set very recently, leading to a somewhat uncertain feel underfoot. Or is that under-ski?
Looks dangerous…
Other than the lack of reassuringly recent tracks to follow, we were very happy to be out on skis at last! Compared to our efforts at the start of last winter, we surprised ourselves and the (imaginary) watching hordes with our overall fitness and technique. Yup, we completed a couple of loops and didn’t fall over. A very low bar on very flat terrain, but one we cleared!
Flat, grey, chilly – but fun!
It was fun to be out and active on a chilly day where it could have been easy to take one look at the grey skies and think of something else to do… and anyway, doesn’t the beer taste better after? Maybe!
Maybe? Definitely!
We’re looking forward to getting out on skis a few more times, and, if the current medium term forecast is accurate, that shouldn’t be a problem from a snowfall perspective. Ne vous inquiétez pas, mes braves, nous reviendrons bientôt! Or something.
Ready to go again
Swift and brief this week, almost like an OldPlaidCamper on skis – thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Let’s start with a thank you to Scout for taking up the reins last week. Moving on, we’ll continue with a health warning – this post is full of self pity and eyebrow-raising medical stuff. Ok, I think we’re ready to get to it.
I’ve been feeling somewhat under the weather recently, most likely because we’re (I’m) enduring the most boring (northern hemisphere) time of the year. Fall is done and proper winter, as I see it, isn’t quite here. There has been the occasional flake – and a few snow flurries as well, haha – but nothing you could call real winter.
Seasonal shots. Fall, almost done
We’ve had our annual flu/COVID shots – the pharmacy was out of bleach and the pharmacist wasn’t a flat-earther type (or TV medical “personality” about to assume responsibilities for which they are enormously unqualified), so no hydroxychloroquine or horse medicines either – and the jabs have left us (me) a little groggy. Goodness, someone sounds a little sore here, and I don’t mean his upper arm…
Yeah, yeah, boohoo, OldPlaidCamper, invisible Canadian problems – what do you mean “glitterball”? Sounds painful. Is it a medical issue for you? “Hi, Doc, this is a tad embarrassing, but the old glitterball has flared up again. Can I get a prescription?”
“He’s walking with a slight limp – the glitterball again?”
Huh?! Honestly, where is your mind at? No, I’m not suffering from glitterball, and wouldn’t tell you even if I was. We were down in the old town last week, pre-vaccine shots, carousing with friends, and came across the following:
Yup, the truck has been turned into a disco ball (or glitterball because I like the word)
Pretty amusing, or so we thought. Anyway, here’s another wave of invented fatigue, so I think I’ll wrap it up for now. I’m off to hide under a blanket until I feel recovered and/or winter arrives. I imagine that you’re wishing Scout was back in charge of the blog after this drug-induced nonsense?
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
“You’ll love it up there, but, you know, black fly season?”
Black fly country? Maybe…
Can’t say we weren’t warned, but goodness, black fly season is a challenge! I’ve camped in bear country, wolf country and spider and snake territory. I’ve been under canvas in the high desert, the low desert, in rain forests and the mountains. It’s been too hot, too cold, too wet or too dry. I’ve even tent camped in a field in England. None of that, whatever challenges they might hold, came close to black flies in the north woods. Banana slugs and ants? I love you guys. And I’ll never complain about mosquitoes again… (I will, of course I will, but they’re a breeze compared to black flies!)
Hotter and more humid by the day – what could happen next?
We rolled up and pitched our tent in slightly overcast and light-ish wind conditions after a day of rain showers. By the following morning the skies had cleared and if you wouldn’t call it hot, the next day or two were pleasantly warm. One or two black flies, one or two mosquitoes but no big deal. Those flies were waiting for the sudden heat and humidity of day four! A lovely morning, with mid teens temperatures and blue skies. These gave way to a bit more cloud cover, increased humidity, a temperature climb and then the onslaught – onslaught I say – of black flies. Onslaught!
Blue skies, green trees, and no problems!
They were everywhere! Oh how I miss the lightweight drone and whine of a mosquito or two. (Like the regular lightweight drone and whine of a contented PlaidCamper before the onslaught. Onslaught I say!) Music compared to the heavy chainsaw buzzing, dive bombing and all out in your face antics of the black flies. They were relentless! I didn’t get a single bite (Mrs PC picked up a few when one got in her hair above the back of her neck – ouch!) so the several gallons of bug spray worked to some extent, but still they zoomed in and away, over and over. And in such numbers – you simply couldn’t ignore them!
After almost two decades camping in various Canadian locations, you’d think we’d have encountered this before, but nope. We will be aiming to avoid another black fly adventure, that’s for sure. Yes, we were warned, and, after the first three days, were still ignorantly wondering what the big deal was. Well, now we know!
“Just leave me alone, man – I don’t want to talk about it!”
I’ll explore a bit more in another post about other aspects of the trip, but, driving home, having been seen off by the black flies, this is what we were talking about the most, so I’d thought I’d share! Definitely a lesson learned and isn’t doing something the hard way a more certain way of remembering the lesson?! There are certainly far worse things than being in the woods in black fly season, but for those few hours before we sounded the retreat, I’d have taken some convincing…
Windows up, seat belts fastened, and go go go!
Mrs PC’s black fly bites are healing, so no external scars, but we’re still reeling from the intensity of the experience. The adventures of an almost outdoorsman? Yup, still an almost outdoorsman, and still learning through mistakes. Usually I like making new to me discoveries, but this wasn’t one of those times! We’re off again next week, a slightly shorter trip, closer to home and not too northerly. Black fly season, the worst of it, is almost done now – isn’t it?!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
We almost missed these, what with being busy and the very hot weather. (Next year we’ll ensure we’re busy visiting the lilacs, properly busy, and not running administrative errands in lilac season!) We did catch them, slightly past their best, but aromatic and pretty enough, or so we thought. Aren’t we all a touch wilted yet aromatic once the heat arrives? No?! Just me then…
Wilted? No!
If you don’t know it or haven’t visited, Le Parc du Bois-de-Coulonge is a little, or not so little, additional oasis of green a short walk from the Plains of Abraham. I think the two are connected if you take the riverside route, and I’ll give that a go sometime when it is less hot! The route up is steep, so to date we’ve stayed on the upper ground and walk between the two parks. Also, this time out, our picnic might have been weighing us down – or I’m just lazy in the warmer weather, too lazy to scale any heights?
Above the river
I’m no botanist, but I do know there are many types of lilacs, and I enjoyed seeing the different shades between the ones grown in the park. On approach, from quite some distance, you can smell the lilacs long before you see them. I like the aroma, a touch heady but not too cloying. Not like the aftershaves I used in my younger clean shaven and pre-grizzled days. Those “fragrances”! Not so much cloying as eye-wateringly dangerous. Useful for clearing a room, and to this day I’m always surprised Mrs. PC wasn’t too put off…
Fragrant
We’re off on our next camping adventure, a week or more up in the Saguenay area. Recommended to us by friends as a pretty region to visit, so long as you’re not dressed as a moose in hunting season. I’ve checked the calendar and my outfits and I think we’ll be ok. It’s a land of lakes and trees and absolutely no biting insects. (If I’m wrong about the biting insects, I think I’ve a few dregs of those dodgy old aftershaves that’ll keep ‘em at bay…)
Pretty
Not remote remote, but I’m not too sure if we’ll have much internet connectivity, which is mostly fine. I’ll catch up on your blogs and comments at essential coffee stops or when we get home!
Lilacs in the park!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
As I write this (Wednesday) it is snowing! I love winter and I love snow, but it is late April now and we wouldn’t mind an escape. We’re making plans, and they mostly feature a tent. Next month? In a tent? We’re quite intent on seeing it happen. Oh dear…
Snow?! Come on PC, barely…
Hard to believe, but yesterday we were in shirtsleeves on the deck drinking our morning coffee. To be fair, snow aside, we could do that every morning if we really wanted to. So many food and drink pieces the last few weeks. Coffee on the deck this week, the two in a row prison and food stories told here the past couple of weeks, and now this one is called Escape plans – do we have a third prison tale? (And a broken promise?)
No no! Late winter cabin fever, that’s all. I’m stuck. The walls are closing in! No more prison stories this week, not after two weeks. Instead, let’s escape, break out (stop it, PlaidCamper) and make a run for it, to the woods. They’ll never find us there…
Hiding place
Yes, we have had enough dry days for the ground to be less soggy and make walking in the woods a more or less everyday event – until the mosquitoes hatch. Scout has been very pleased by our woodland return, and it’s been an effort to keep up with her.
Troll territory
Of course we had to check in with the trolls. The ground had been trampled all about, but no sign of the trolls themselves. Sensibly, they keep out of sight, not wanting the publicity. It’s bad enough I take pictures of their house. That is bad of me, since trolls must be an endangered species – after all, have you ever seen one? (I don’t mean the trolls that, mentally or literally, have never left the parental home, and are living in the basement, sad little things, fighting culture wars and being aggrieved ‘cos, oh I don’t know, bathrooms and toilets are binary/non binary or gendered or some sh*t – honestly, keyboard warriors, do you think a toilet even cares if you’re non-dangly/dangly? There’s so much going on and wrong in the world, but our brave culture warriors want to fight about potty time and get offended that a s/he/they person is using the “wrong” bathroom. Ok…)
My advice, readers? Ignore him, he’ll stop, eventually…
Tangent alert! Oops! Too late. Instead, let’s pretend I care enough about forest trolls to pretend to go along with the story they aren’t real. (Huh?!) So, they aren’t real, and they don’t live in a stone house in the woods behind us. Forget I mentioned them. And forget all the dangly stuff. And, I don’t know, maybe forget this entire post? It must be the cabin fever talking – let’s get out of here. Quite potty. I should go now. To the bathroom? Oh dear…
“Man, weeping”
A brief post this week since I can’t talk about trolls or prison. Or bathrooms. It’s like I’ve been shackled. It’s definitely time to make an escape!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Morning coffee here? Why not, if you really want to…“Has he gone? (He’s lost it you know…)”
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!
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!
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!
Suspended? The blog? No, more of a brief blogging pause as we spend the next week or two with less certain internet availability. But before that, here’s a wobbly one featuring a brave dog:
Free wobbles top right
On a recent very warm morning we visited Parc des Chutes-de-la-Chaudière in search of some shade. There is a waterfall that’s used to generate electricity, and you can take great photos of the falls from a suspension bridge traversing the Chaudière River. You’ll need to be brave though…
Looks sturdy enough
A few steps in and we were aware of a slight bouncing sensation underfoot. A few more strides and the bouncing became quite pronounced. Scout stopped dead in her tracks and for a few moments it looked like she wouldn’t go forward or back. Hmm. Then Mrs. PC strode past and Scout clearly didn’t like the idea of not being in front, so off we wobbled at quite a pace. None of us wanted to spend too long on the bridge…
More power to you
The views were great, mostly snatched glances from the bridge (we were not stopping, oh no) and the views are as good from just off the bridge – firmer footing and a more relaxed canine companion. We did find some leafy shade, and spent a few moments enjoying relief from the sun and pretending our heart rates were running at normal. We knew there was a return trip over the bridge but didn’t tell Scout.
Leafy
As it turned out, Scout being Scout, the return over the bridge was not a problem. She shrugged, put one paw in front of the other, and without looking down (I did – not a good idea – my stomach lurched) trotted across as fast as her legs would carry her. Pretty fast, I can tell you!
Is that all? Pah!
If you have sturdy legs and a bold disposition, then a trip to the bridge and the falls is recommended.
Sturdy and bold? I’m in!
Thanks for reading and we’ll leave it there for this week, with pulses steady and our little wobble behind us! I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
If we have reliable wifi, we’ll aim to post something next week!
Can I come out now? Has he finished talking about the bridge?
I’m not sure if I’ve been having iPad issues or WordPress issues, but I’ve certainly been having technical issues the past few days. Let’s see if this one gets posted…
An outdoors day
Instead of staying indoors and fixing the technical issues, I did what’s best and went outside to play on bikes. That’s what we used to say back in the day. We’d tell our parents we were going out to play on bikes and then use them as getaway vehicles as we terrorized the neighbourhood. Astonishingly, in that particular group of friends, there were no broken bones or arrests made, so let’s leave that in the past and say we were good kids really.
Present day getaway vehicle
Present day, I like to pedal (assist) my way slowly and carefully around town – when the sun is shining. My small combined mission to not fall off and do all errands in Ucluelet by bicycle or on foot has proved successful so far. A friend has an e-motorcycle and likes to tell me how fast it “could” go, but we’ve resisted the need for speed, and I’m not going to push my no broken bones from a bike record for a midlife crisis and curiosity about could an e-bike make that jump? (I think it could, but I’m not succumbing to peer pressure or forgetting to act my actual on the outside age…)
“After speeding down a ramp I took off, flying through the air before landing right here, narrowly avoiding crashing through the barrier and plunging into the water!” Oh, alright, I rolled to a slow and gentle stop and then sat quietly admiring the view.
Anyway, the sun is shining again today – we’re getting the second half of summer, even if we didn’t get the first half, or any spring, not that I’m bitter about it – so I’ll end this now and head back outside. I noticed some local youth have set up a ramp, made from a few bricks and planks. Looks safe to me…
OldPlaidCamper 