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…

Cheers!

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…

Cheers!

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.

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…

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?!

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…

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?)

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?

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…

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.

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?

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.

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?)

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.

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!”

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:

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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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…

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.

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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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…)
Refusing to be put off by our recent black fly challenges (and armed with a new bug screen dome and lotion with possibly high radiation equivalent levels of DEET) we set off for a relatively mountainous region an hour or so northwest of Quebec City.

I was encouraged as the route changed from six lane highway to two lane black top (with narrow single lane bridges over small rivers and streams) to a range road that became a dirt track the last few kilometres. We were hoping for something a little remote – our booking advised no electricity or running water and very little cell coverage (all true) – and when we checked in at the office, the friendly welcome and laidback attitude boded well. Also, yes, the campground a few hundred metres away might not have any modern services, but, bonus, was that a fridge full of cold local beers? Well, I’m not saying, but Mrs. PC seemed particularly happy…

Our site was large, shaded and quiet. Spacious enough to accommodate our tent, the truck and the larger than expected dome tent bug screen. My first apartment was smaller. We put it up over the provided bench and picnic table with room to spare. Great for Scout to wander around “indoors but outside” and off leash.

The black fly count was far lower than our previous outing, and we’d have probably been ok without the screen, but it was pleasant to be able to rustle up and eat meals without any bugstractions.
We’re meeting up with friends/family next week, another camping trip, on the Quebec-Ontario border just north of Algonquin Park. I understand it can be a little buggy there, so we’ll be able to entertain in numbers under the dome. Or if not entertain (yeah, they’ve heard our stories before) then at least be comfortable.

Anyway, back to the Vallée Bras-du-Nord – it is a gem! Mountainous and green, a pretty valley with great hiking and biking trails and lots of camping options. It would be fun to snowshoe or xc ski in winter, and it has the feel of being a fishing place? I’m not too sure of the fishing scene in Quebec. The rivers and streams are plentiful and appear clean to the untrained eye.

We hiked a couple of trails, and our favourite was to the Delaney Falls. My camera was dying, but I managed a few shots. Honestly, if you ever find yourself out that way, the one hour each way hike from Shannahan Information Centre to the falls is a winner. It is leafy and relatively flat along the river valley bottom with a short rise to the falls on well constructed forest trails. Roots, rocks and puddles make it one to watch where you step, but nothing too strenuous, and a perfect length for a warm day. Take bug spray and water and all will be well!

Our evenings were warm, one or two sharp rain showers aside, and the best sight in the later evenings was the lightning bugs. Loved seeing those. Only a few, and flashing on and off through the darkening trees. For me, they made camping seem like, well, camping!

We’re hoping to return in the fall, most likely for a daylong outing to check out the leaf colour and enjoy a vigorous hike on a fresh fall day.

Not too sure about how connected we’ll be internet-wise for the next week or two. I’ll aim to post a short something at the end of the week as usual, and then catch up on my reading after we return home.

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…

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?

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…

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…)

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!

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

We’re away for the next little while, taking some time to test out our new tent and rediscovering the delights of woodland camping.
We’ve been getting into shape, a rigorous fitness plan, and one I’d recommend. It’s achieved mostly by eating all the cheeses on picnics, and then taking slow hikes around the Plains of Abraham.

Here we are below, exiting the frame bottom left. Imagine the shutter speeds necessary to capture us moving so fast…

I’ll catch up on your blogs and any comments from the past week next week, when we’re home and with reliable internet. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
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