I received a WordPress notification earlier this week informing me I’d been blogging here for ten years. Ten years?! Goodness, that’s quite a long time. Curiosity prompted, I went back into the archives to reread the very first post, one entitled “Why Plaid Camper?” It was a not so brief introduction and indication of what I hoped my bright and shiny new blog might be.
Little Bear Sunset (near Bozeman, Montana) – the first photograph on OPC
In the main, I think the vague aims and intentions I mentioned way back when have been met – mostly – and continue to be met all these years later. But then I would say that, even though I am totally unbiased…
Bow Valley beauty, AB – always a happy place for us
Blogging is inevitably somewhat self indulgent, and in that spirit I think I’ll take the next week or two to reflect on ten blogging years and repost a few favourite photographs representing some memorable moments and/or happy places. Like I said, self indulgent!
A fine BC beer in a fine location – thanks for humouring me back then, Wayne!
So here we go, the greatest hits that never were – or, less charitably, just some repeats and reruns. Is it “Why Plaid Camper?” as that first post asked back then, or more “Why, PlaidCamper?!” Or maybe, more simply, why not?
Little Bear Cabin, Montana – tops the list of my favourite cabins!
I’ll end this week (before some more rerun photos) by saying “thank you” to each and every person that has taken the time to read and/or comment here the past ten years. Those genuine connections are the real why. So, shall we carry on for another ten and see where we go? And wonder what that might look like? (Erm, probably like pieces about going for a walk, visits to a campground or two in a pretty setting, and often finishing with a glass of something good by a fire?) Oh, ok – put like that, not too bad, eh? Let’s keep it going – cheers!
Cheers! (Hardknott Bar, Woolpack Inn, Lake District, UK – great beer selection and the best company, even if my brother only drinks Peroni…)
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
“Thanks, friends!” (Taken at Dry Island Buffalo Jump, AB)A different AB good mood – oh those prairie days outOne of our very best days – thank you, Jet!Any day out and about with Scout always works for usAlberta river rush! A day on (not in) the water with friends is a good day
The snow flies and it is playtime! Even when it is flying sideways…
Brisk breeze
Monday was one of those days where venturing out required an extra layer or two and a scarf over the face. Icy needles. I wore sunglasses, not to look cool (that’s a given, I agree, sunglasses or no) but ‘cos I couldn’t find my snow goggles.
Scout was impatient to get out, seemed she was looking for something:
“Somewhere just around here…”“Nope! Gosh darn… let’s come back tomorrow?”
Ok. Tuesday was a bright blue sky and deep freeze day, very much the calm after the storm. We tracked into the woods, and we’d have probably done better with snowshoes, but made do breaking new trails and admiring small tracks.
Tracking a perfect wave
We’ve been more than happy to while away an hour or two most days in the woods. The blanket of sound-absorbing snow is comforting without being constraining, and the blasts of crisp air certainly refresh. We’re happily ensconced in the heart of a real winter, sometimes bitter, maybe (to some) bleak, but certainly beautiful. We will continue to enjoy it, in calm and/or storms and all, before looking forward to spring. As Scout always reminds us, winter, it’s perfect for playtime!
“Can’t find it, whatever it is, so we’ll keep coming back – ok?”
Ok! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Not that much. Certainly not on Monday. An alleged billionaire started a new job, a second attempt at a position he has held before but mostly failed at. Maybe he’ll do better this time? I’m not sure he really wants it, since he keeps going on about Canada, something about wanting to join? I can understand that, as it’s pretty great here for all sorts of reasons. Maybe he can apply for citizenship after he’s finished/washed up once more? Don’t tell him – he’ll pout – but I doubt he’d get the warmest welcome…
Pretty great
Speaking of warm – what’s so great about the True North that causes the tangerine hued chap to cast covetous eyes on it? Could it be our wonderful winter? Maybe! We certainly have real winter at last – woo-hoo! Cue a Scout-like jump for joy – the end photo this week, one of our favourites!
A wolf in real winter (Scout, but you knew that)
Last Monday was quite cold, the sort of day that could frighten a wannabe strongman, send him scurrying indoors. (It takes more than a bit of chill to keep a real Canadian from heading out, so if he’s so keen to be a part of Canada, he’s going to have to toughen up…)
Troll hideout
Anyway, enough of avaricious/needy populists, wherever they might be lurking. On to more pleasant things. We enjoyed our Monday excursion into the woods, the first properly cold day of the year. Other than pausing for a photograph or two, we kept perfectly warm by keeping moving. It helped that the sun was out, with the winds fairly calm, so we could concentrate on admiring a sparkling white and blue day.
Winter! Woo-hoo!
The cold snap, or real winter, has stuck around and promises to be with us through the weekend and beyond. The windchills will diminish enough to make xc skiing a comfortable prospect – I like the cold, but didn’t want to let winter scour a layer of skin from my face as would have happened if we’d tried to ski this week. I’d end up looking like I’d had work done, some sort of weird face peel requiring orange makeup to plaster over the cracks. I don’t know about you, but I can’t quite imagine the necessary vanity to attempt that failed strongman look… Perhaps I could ski later today, another cold one, see what happens? Nah, we’ll stick to hiking speed for now, and embrace the bracing conditions.
The peeled look – ouch!
A big thank you to Jet for reminding me of the woo-hoo feeling winter can provide – it’s more than a simple distraction from what’s (not) going on more widely in the world – it’s actually the real stuff, the everyday delight that is there when I look for it, right where we are, right now. Shall we say it one more time? Why not – woo-hoo!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Enjoy the season, and happy holidays to you should you choose to celebrate. Or, simply enjoy the weekend and week ahead if that’s more your thing, no extra festivities required…
We’ve enjoyed a few more sprinklings of snow and the temperature has stayed reliably low, so there’s still a white carpet out in the woods. With luck, and if forecasts are accurate, we should have received a sizeable amount more by the time you’re reading this. Please, please, please…
At the start of the week Scout and I had the local woods pretty much to ourselves. Other than the chattering squirrels still at work, and the occasional woodpecker and numerous small brown birds I’m unable to identify, it was mostly quiet. Tracks told us of hares and rabbits, and dogs and walkers out earlier than us, but we didn’t see another person each morning. (Mrs PC remained indoors at the start of the week, under the weather and recovering from flu shots, etc. On the mend now and she’ll soon be back keeping an eye on the children…)
The air was still, with fallen snow balanced precariously on even the most delicate of branches. As morning progressed and a bright sun rose, what heat there was caused snow to tumble, miniature crystal cascades shimmering down. A tiny bird flew across the trail in front of us and into the trees on our left, almost faster than my eye could catch it. Threading through the lattice of tiny branches, wing beats dislodging snow, white puffs betraying the flight path – that was some sight!
With her half curved tail a happy question mark, Scout is most definitely a snow dog, leaping ahead or nosing into snow banks or trying to catch a snowball. I can barely keep up. If there’s a downward slope, she’ll pull hard, trying to get ahead, reach the bottom – and see if I’ll fall? Sometimes I surrender on the steeper ones, putting one foot forward and then sliding down gracefully (you weren’t there, it was graceful) as if riding an escalator, disappointing Scout as I remain upright.
“There’s a good steep slope just over the rise that’ll get him, hehehe!”
Goodness, a couple of weeks into the new winter season and Scout is yet to see me tumble. Will my luck hold? Scout isn’t a gambler, more of a gamboller, but if she could place a bet, it would be on me being flat on my face, deposited into a snow bank at some point. There is a lot of winter to come, and many more walks in the winter woods, so she’s probably right…
“I’m always right!”
The little things in an outdoor season of wonder keeping us mostly balanced – thank you, winter! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A hint of proper winter! I know my delight in enjoying a “real” winter isn’t shared by all, but goodness, doesn’t a sprinkle of magic fairy dust, I mean snow, really help lift the mood?!
At last!
It was a race as to who could get out of the door and into the woods the quickest. Scout won, because shoe laces, but I was a close second and off we frolicked. Mrs. PC? Yes, she can do shoe laces as well, and she was with us but not racing. She plays it cool at first snowfall, letting the children make youthful fools of themselves and, quite rightly, feigning not to know us. Why Scout has to kick up snow into the air cackling madly I’ll never know – no wonder Mrs. PC hangs back just a little…
“Why have we stopped? Oh, shoelaces…”
The first decent round of snow wasn’t all that much if I’m honest. Enough to be noteworthy and not disappoint or disappear overnight. On notes, I always think the last remaining leaves look a little like musical notation, a gentle introduction or prelude to the full song and mighty majesty we’re about to enjoy. (This might tell you I was never a success musically in school or all the years after. Years of instruction and to this day I cannot read a note – how does that happen?)
Notes and leaves
What was I doing? There were recorders – instruments of musical torture in the wrong hands, and mine were so very wrong – and drums (“Adam, put the sticks down, you can’t play those unless you can tell me what these notes are?” No drums then…) and all sorts of sonic temptations, but beyond hammering at a glockenspiel I never really achieved much. Sometimes, I wasn’t even allowed a glockenspiel – just a single chime bar was the best I could expect. And even then I’d hit it at the wrong time, much to the music teacher’s delight I’m sure. Oh well. It taught me to be an appreciative audience instead. After all, if we’re all in the band, who buys the tickets?
“Yeah, I’ve heard him sing. Trust me, he’s not musical…”
On winter and music and buying a ticket, we were lucky enough to enjoy Les Violons du Roy perform all of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons a few weeks ago. My wonder and delight with Jonathon Cohen (conductor and harpsichord) continues – his ability to convey enthusiasm and joy and encouragement in his fellow musicians is something to behold. I’ve never seen or heard anything like it! I know the Four Seasons is probably overly familiar, but to hear it played as it was originally composed was very special. As special as the first winter snow…
First snow
Let’s conclude with that attempt at tying together a few loose strings and false notes – thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Scout here. OldPlaidCamper is around, but you know how he can be when elections are won by old xenophobes, criminal misogynist wannabe “strong” men and- well, I could go on but then I’d sound like him, and we all know I’m more chipper and less likely to rant than him. So, while he’s off sulking, this week it’s up to me to provide a post. This is about something, or rather, a something that has been lurking and maybe even tracking us in the woods.
Hiding places
OPC can get twitchy – or squirrelly but not as cute (don’t tell him I said that) – when there’s a rustling in the undergrowth. I’ve explained over and over that there really isn’t anything much larger than a deer in our little neck of the woods, but will he listen? Yes, yes, there’s the troll house, but we’ve never seen the trolls, have we?
The troll house (no trolls though)
Anyway, there we were out in the woods last week, and, yup, there was definitely something different in the vicinity. We paused to listen. A sort of low rustling and then nothing. On we went. There it was again! It stopped just after we did. Now, I’m not the nervous sort, not like a certain almost outdoorsman we all know, but I will admit to being a little spooked. Not spooked or annoyed like I get with ravens and crows, and we all know I’m so calm I’ll sleep through a bear encounter, but this time I was ruffled. We moved on. And there it was again! Hmm.
“Wait! Did you hear that? A scurrying behind us?”
As a child, oops, I mean pup, and just like OPC, I was always drawn to maps in books that had places marked with “Here be dragons” and this was beginning to play on my mind. Could it be… no! So, perhaps it was a troll? Except whatever it was sounded too fleet of foot – not lumbering, far more nimble than that. You’ll never guess what OldPlaidCamper said? “I say, Scout, old thing, I do believe we’re jolly well being stalked by a woodland dragon! How beastly. Shall we hide?” (When he’s nervous, he sounds like a prissy child actor in a Sunday teatime BBC adaptation of one of the Narnia books. You won’t tell him I said that will you?)
Eye rolling moment
Oh, c’mon, OPC. There is no such thing outside of your, oops, I mean my, story books! (I’m beginning to struggle with the narrative voice here. It’s not easy writing this. Never mind all thumbs on a keyboard, or a monkey (as if) with a typewriter – I’m all paws. Nope, not easy…)
Where was I? Oh yes. OPC loves dragons, but, unlike trolls, they only exist in stories. I’ve never seen one – have you? OPC says dragons are more real than a Brexit unicorn frolicking in sunlit uplands, but I usually stop listening when he gets started on that. You know, unicorns.
Here be dragons? Don’t be daft, OPC
This post isn’t going anywhere is it? I thought I’d write something more interesting than his usual man goes for walk with dog then drinks beer. I was aiming to be a bit more elevated. More dog goes for a walk with man then eats kibble, and ending with a soft focus photograph of a bowl of kibble and a caption saying “yum!”
I’ll humour him. “Yes, OPC, something has been lurking here!”
Oh well. I’m tired, and I need to go find OPC, see if he needs a walk and feeding, so let’s leave it here this week. He often finishes with something like that, doesn’t he? “Let’s leave it here this week!” Not me. I’m going to say let’s paws it here this week. Elevated. Oh! I almost forgot, and I’d hate to leave you in suspense – was it a dragon? Yes! Yes it was! A baby dragon:
Yes, that’s right, a baby dragon. (I know, I know, but don’t spoil it for OPC – he’s fragile after recent events…)
A baby dragon?! He insisted on calling it that, bless him. To me it looks a lot like a salamander, but try telling OPC. He is adamant it is a baby dragon. And now, when we go to the woods, he’s all “here be dragons!” each time we turn a corner. I’ve decided it’s best to let him believe it, since it seems to cheer him up, and don’t some of us need that at the moment?
Thanks for reading, and we hope you have a wonderful weekend!
As it turned out, the heights weren’t the highest we’ve hiked, climbed or scrambled in the past, but on a warm fall day, and starting at sea level, the near 1400 feet up felt high enough. Got an endorphin high for sure!
Get high
If you’re ever in the vicinity of Camden, Maine, and you’re looking for a mostly moderate (and, in parts, challenging) hike with spectacular views from the heights, then I heartily recommend the Mt Megunticook Trail at Camden Hills State Park.
Happy trails
The hike up through a red, gold and green mixed forest on well maintained trails is pretty special, and if the trail only meandered through the woods you’d be happy enough.
The bonus is, with a little leg and lung workout up some steep sections (steps made from rock slabs and a couple of short and potentially slippery boulder scrambles if it was a rainy day) you’ll emerge up top and enjoy amazing scenes over Penobscot Bay and across the low hills and mountains of the nearby Maine interior.
Some elevation
I’ll let the photos do the work this week – and, as much as I like these images, honestly, they don’t capture the magnificence of the place. You’ll just have to visit! You’d be dizzy with delight, I promise you!
Delight
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
We hadn’t realized how much we’d been missing the mountains until we found ourselves back in a high region once again.
Towards the lake
The upper reaches of the Parc National de la Gaspésie were absolutely wonderful, and a particular highlight was the lac aux américaines, a small glacial lake and easy destination found at the end of a short trail.
lac aux américaines
The trail is easy, but be warned, the washboard roads are not kind on vehicles, and I wouldn’t have wanted to use a regular low slung car to get up there. Some did, but goodness, the toll on the paintwork and undercarriage…
The road got far more challenging as it climbed!
Anyway, if you find yourself up there, take the short hike and you’ll be rewarded with the prettiest of mountain scenes. We were fortunate to be there on a quiet and sunny day, not too hot and just right to sit and eat your lunch whilst taking in the lake.
Bend in the river
There isn’t a hike around the lake, but there are several longer (day plus) trails crisscrossing the park with routes above the lake. They’d offer some view if you’re willing to take them on!
Long view towards the lake (from much further back!)
We weren’t in full mountain hike mode, and were quite content to tackle shorter and moderate half day at most rambles. We saw long views, pretty river bends, tumbling waterfalls and rushing waters, and all on sunny days where the early fall light gave everything a slightly golden feel.
Tumbling
The only day where the weather threatened was on our half day lake paddle. It got very dark, a touch breezy, and there were actual raindrops. Raindrops, maybe as many as twenty or thirty. Hardly a deluge, I think we dodged one there.
More about this next week
Anyway, this was supposed to be about the mountains. Mountains! More on the paddling next week! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Steps away from our campsite! Perfect sights and sounds…
Meandering? Us? Never! Well, maybe… Read on if you’ve the time and patience for something slow going nowhere in particular!
We’ve just got back from a short road and extended camping trip to Parc national d’Opemican. The park is about a ten hour drive from Quebec City. If you want to, you can make the trip from here to there in one long driving day, but we took two days, travelling more slowly, stopping often.
Stopping often, can’t think why
Our route passed through Montreal and Ottawa because that appeared to be the most direct. Did I mention travelling more slowly? The summer highway construction season all but assures you’re taking things slowly, so it was on with the tunes (yup, the Hip), down with the windows (and then back up because, city traffic fumes and humidity) and try to enjoy the construction enforced leisurely pace. I do like driving with windows rolled down if we’re moving at a (legal) pace that generates cool air. I know, my hair, but sometimes you’ve just got to go with it.
Picnic stop. Loads of time. Loads of cheese. Lots of cherries. Few bugs.
With Montreal and Ottawa in the rear view, things out of the (rolled down) windows get a good deal more interesting. The Ottawa Valley is wide and green and pleasantly agricultural before becoming increasingly wooded, rugged and wild as it swings northwest.
Approaching Opemican we’d ask are we in Ontario or are we in Quebec? Erm, yes? The river is the border between the two provinces, and we crisscrossed it a few times. I loved moving along(side) the river on those lazy hazy summer days. Later in the week I got to paddle on it. Marvellous. More on that in another post I suspect.
Ottawa River
Earlier, we’d stopped in Arnprior, ON, to meet an old school friend, or rather, old school teaching friend and colleague from our time in Calgary. A wonderful teacher, it was P who gave me a copy of “Hatchet” by Gary Paulsen as she thought I might like it. She was right, and it influenced much of what I taught. With the novel as a starting point, students explored so many aspects about what it means to be in Canada. New Canadian, settler, refugee or First Nation, I’m almost certain every single student enjoyed the novel and how we uncovered so many areas of the curriculum. Geography, language, math, natural sciences, artistic expression, personal responsibility, risk taking, decision making, finding solutions, and remembering to never, ever bother a moose. So much in one short novel! If I ever return to the classroom, it’ll be with a copy of Hatchet in my back pocket… I owe P so much! So I bought her a beer.
Lazy afternoon with a hazy beer – highly recommended NEIPA
P was in fine form. We’d always hoped to meet up at her family cottage near Bobcaygeon but never got to doing that and the cabin changed hands last summer. Fortuitously, we all happened to be passing through Arnprior the same weekend, and, just as fortuitously, the Cold Bear Brewing Company was open, served splendid beer, and was the most dog (and people) friendly brewery we’ve been to so far.
Arnprior, ON
We’ll get to Arnprior again one day, explore a bit more, as it seemed a pleasant little riverside town. We couldn’t stay long this time as it was on the next day to rendezvous with my brother and his partner at Opemican.
I’ll write more about the fabulous week we had in a future post, but I’ll finish by saying if you ever go camping and want a mosquito distractor, some bait that’ll keep the little blighters away from you, then go with my brother. He’s a mosquito magnet! Every mosquito in western Quebec wanted to meet him. And only him. I have to say he complained far less than I would have, so hats off for that – and then back on again quickly, just in case. (If you have bought shares in any bug deterrent products in the past month, it was my brother who made your fortune!) Poor guy tried everything, to no avail. He’s quite a builder and tinkerer, and he left muttering something about creating a personal mini laser system to shoot down mosquitoes. I wouldn’t put it past him, but he wouldn’t be happy about the military-industrial complex knocking on his door and asking for the blueprints as a matter of national security.
“What bugs? Be chill, man!” Scout, going with the contours and the flow at Opemican
More to follow! Thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Buzzing
PS Now we’re home for a few days, I’ll be catching up on your posts and any comments over the weekend and into next week! (We were pretty much off grid for ten days – did anything happen while we were away? Scans headlines. Oh…)
OldPlaidCamper 