A blog about my travels around the world, in search of wild parrots, great paddling opportunities and incredibly eclectic travel experiences, I try to make a difference by connecting people with nature, people with other cultures, and people with themselves by sharing my stories.
Earth Day is upon us once more, and there are plenty of activities to help mark the occasion, all over the world.
Celebrate Earth Day through stewardship at Burnaby Lake.
I've mentioned in previous posts that I spent my first Earth Day in Belize. There were a lot of firsts, on that trip: first international travel trip outside of Canada and the USA, the first time I ever paddled a sea kayak, my first time in a cave, my first time seeing wild parrots, and a few others. I'd never even heard of Earth Day before that. It had been around for 21 years at that point but I'd never heard of it.
It's grown even more since then, spreading around the world with events aimed at celebrating it, creating awareness about the earth and conservation, and participating in events that help the earth. There are numerous national, regional, and local events that take place during the weekend closest to April 22. Ranging from national organizations like the Nature Conservancy, to smaller local groups like the Burns Bog Society and everything in-between plan events that take place over the weekend. This year, it falls on a Saturday, and locally in Vancouver, there are several events set for both Saturday and Sunday. Obviously it's possible to go to every event, but it's certainly doable to go to one event each day. Highlighted here are a couple of local events taking place in B.C.'s Lower Mainland this weekend. Earth Day Paddle, Richmond, B.C.
On Saturday, from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., the B.C. chapter of the Nature Conservancy will host its first ever paddling event to mark the day. NCC’s West Coast Stewardship Team invites you
to join them for a paddle out to Swishwash Island at the mouth of the Fraser River, for a day of exploring, learning and land stewardship. It's just a
fifteen-minute paddle to the island. The will be spent day touring the
island by foot and by boat, while tackling stewardship tasks such as
cataloging plant species, pulling invasive weeds and cleaning up the
shoreline. It may not be too late to get involved, but you'll have to hurry. Pre-registration is preferred to just showing up. Contact info is available through the link above.
Burns Bog Earth Day Pilgrimage
This takes place Sunday afternoon, in the Delta Nature Reserve, B.C. (just outside Vancouver). It's going to involve an easy walk through the wetland, and some music performed by special guests. Performers will sing, drum, and dance as we walk through the reserve. You don't need to register in advance, just show up. Details are available at the society's website and Facebook page.
A nature tour through Burns Bog from two years ago.
Burnaby Lake Association Weedbusters
While not specifically aimed at Earth Day, what better way to celebrate than by helping make a difference with some hands-on stewardship. The BLA will be removing invasive species (non-native plants that have become
established and replaced native species) around Burnaby Lake. They'll
provide gloves, tools, and snacks. Dress for the weather and be prepared
to work off-trail in the woods. It's for all ages, it runs from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m. Again, info is available at the link above.
Those are just a few examples of events going on in and around Vancouver for Earth Day 2017. There are many others, including a parade, other stewardship events, and outdoor photography courses/workshops. If you Google "earth day events in Metro Vancouver" you'll get plenty from which to choose.
"When I would recreate myself, I seek the darkest wood, the thickest and
most impenetrable and to the citizen, most dismal, swamp. I enter a
swamp as a sacred place, a sanctum sanctorum…" - Henry David Thoreau
Today is World Wetlands Day. (Yeah, it's Groundhog Day too - but he already gets enough publicity.)
In case you're not quite sure what a wetland is, according to the US EPA, it is: "... areas where water covers the soil, or is
present either at or near the surface of the soil all year or for
varying periods of time during the year, including during the growing
season."
Still not sure about the value of wetlands? Well, they:
act as natural sponges
filter pollutants, helping provide clean drinking water
absorb rainfall, reducing floods and droughts
reduce the speed and height of storm surges
provide food and habitat for huge variety of birds and wildlife
provide a lace for recreation and reflection
I've visited a number of wetlands around North America. Three of my favourites are located in three very different environments.
One of my favourite places to hang out near my Vancouver home is the George C. Reifel Migratory Bird Sanctuary just outside Ladner, B.C. It's part of a coastal wetland jutting onto the ocean in places, and just a half-hour's drive from the Vancouver International Airport. There you'll find yourself in a wetland paradise full of ducks, geese,
cranes, and herons - not to mention songbirds like red-winged blackbirds
or raptors like bald eagles or marsh hawks (a.k.a. northern harriers).
Black crowned night heron.
I won't go into too much detail about the sanctuary itself, its history and its functions; that can all be gleaned from the sanctuary website . I will say that
although it is a stopping place for birds migrating north and south in
the spring and fall, respectively - an avian "motel" of sorts - it is
also a year-round home for many other birds.
Reifel is one
of those rare spots you can visit again and again, and never tire of
going there. It's a special place where you can get close to nature
without having to drive too far from your front step, if you live in the
Greater Vancouver area.
The experiences there are pretty much the same
every time, but for me, there's always one gem of an experience I have
that's a bit different each time, something that sets that visit apart
from others.
Once I saw a great blue heron fly across a pond
and alight on a log right in front of me. It then proceeded to spend
several minutes grooming itself while I shot videos and images of the
bird.
Another time, I
was able to watch and record a pair of sandhill cranes strolling along
the edge of the marsh. You won't see these large, rare and beautiful
birds every time you go to Reifel, but I have seen them on more than one
occasion.
A blue heron grooms at Reifel.
I
saw my first black-crowned night heron there; also, my first northern
shoveller, my first bufflehead, my first...well, you get the idea.
It's a great place to take kids, too, and get them to experience and enjoy nature. OAK HAMMOCK MARSH
Oak Hammock is a prairie wetland located, in southern Manitoba near Winnipeg. I spent a day there several years ago and I was amazed at the variety and diversity of bird life there. Of course, it helped that I was paddling;
there’s no better way to see birds – especially wetland species – than from a
canoe.
The Coot family.
A total of 296 different bird species have been recorded there. While I certainly did not approach that number, I was not disappointed. Just minutes into
our journey, we spotted an American coot with babies.
During my day's paddle, I spied gulls, terns,
blackbirds, and several other species.
The highlight came as we paddled
quietly toward a small island covered with American white pelicans.
When we came too close for their comfort,
it was as if someone pressed a button - they took off en masse, a white cloud
of flapping feathers rising up into the sky.
OKEFENOKEE NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE Just north of the Florida panhandle in southern Georgia, in the middle of a wild, wet southern wilderness, sits this gem locals call simply, "The Swamp."
I once spent three
days canoeing and camping in this wonderful reserve with Okefenokee Adventures,
the go-to adventure tour operator for the area. Our guide was very
knowledgeable about the natural and cultural history of the area.
Like the other two spots described above, it's a great place for birds. While there exploring it, I saw a sandhill crane, several egrets and a green heron.
You'll see plenty of gators in "The Swamp."
Because it's so not as close to an urban centre as the other two, it boasts a far wider variety of wildlife in including deer, black bears and its iconic reptile: the American alligator.
I saw many of them, and a few deer, but no bears. It's a wonderful place for a
naturalist to hang out, and like Oak Hammock, it's only accessible by canoe. The point to all this?
Without wetlands, none of these creatures would have homes. And surely that's reason enough to be concerned and to practice wetland conservation by supporting groups that focus on conserving wetlands, where it's a big national organization like Ducks Unlimited or a smaller local group like the Reifel Sanctuary or the Burns Bog Conservation Society.
There it was again. We had no idea what was making
the noise 30 metres from our campsite, and we were not entirely certain we
wanted to find out.
"It's probably a bear hunting for frogs," I said,
hunkering down deeper in my sleeping bag.
"Bears don't eat frogs!" my companion replied from
deep in her own sleeping bag.
"Do too!"
"Do not! Might be a moose, though."
"This isn't moose habitat! It's probably a bear …
"
As it turned out, we were both right - sort of. Later research revealed that black bears do
indeed eat frogs. However, it was not a hungry bear on the prowl for the
delicacy of frogs' legs. It turned out to be a bird - probably an osprey -
diving for fish in Channel Lake's waters.
Channel Lake is part of a chain of waterways in the
northwest corner of Kejimkujik National Park. Located in south-central NovaScotia, "Keji" is the only national park in the Maritimes completely
surrounded by land, although there is a seaside adjunct apart from the park's
main body.
This 403-square kilometre island of wilderness is home to more than
100 species of birds; mammals such as deer, porcupine, moose - and yes, bear;
and a variety of tree species, including oak, maple, hemlock, spruce and pine.
Sunset on Channel Lake
One of the best ways to experience the park is by canoe, on
routes north or south of the large lake that gives the park its name. We paddled
north of Kejimkujik for five days - partially following the route paddled by Albert Bigelow Paine in his book, The Tent Dwellers - through Big Dam Lake, Frozen Ocean Lake and
Channel Lake before paddling back onto the main lake.
Because we paddled the park in early August - peak holiday
season - we were surprised that three days passed without sight of another
human.
The first people we did see were two park rangers, performing routine
backcountry campsite maintenance.
That's not to say we were lonely.
Prickly Porky on the move
Porcupines, barred owls,
deer and chipmunks visited our campsites.
Paddling down the quiet waters of
Still Brook, LittleRiver and West River, we encountered herons, a painted
turtle, frogs, a mother loon and her baby, and a merganser family.
The unexpected solitude was a true gift.
On our last night
on the big lake, a lone loon swam past our Moose Island campsite, wailing her
trademark cry, as if to say,"Farewell!" from the wilderness,
eliciting a prayer of thanks from my own mouth.
(This story was originally published in the Summer 2001 edition of Ski Canada's Outdoor Guide.)
Post script: There's much more to the park than canoeing. It's also a national historic site, as this video shows.
So, St. Patrick's Day is upon us ... and tradition holds that I should write something about Ireland in
my blog to mark the occasion.
The problem is, I haven't BEEN to Ireland. (At least not yet).
The closest I've been physically (and for that matter, spiritually) is Wales.
I have written a couple of published stories about Wales, as well as blogged about it, but we're not celebrating St. David's Day (is there such a holiday for the patron saint of Wales?), so that doesn't really count.
It's not that I don't WANT to go to Ireland...I've just always had other destinations on my radar. And it's not like there aren't things to interest me in that country. Never mind the fact it's the home of both Guinness stout and Bushmill's Irish Whisky, there are also some excellent birding and paddling opportunities there (although the chance of spotting parrots there might be slim to none...).
I always celebrate St. Pat's Day at home with some Celtic music, an Irish dish or two (this year I'm making a meatloaf baked in a Guinness glaze), and plenty of Guinness (both in a glass and in the food), Bushmill's, Bailey's, and a movie or two with an Irish theme (The Quiet Man, The Fighting Prince of Donegal are two of my favourites) and some old episodes of Remington Steele that were set in Ireland.
Let's do a little cooking with Guinness...
I often read stories from Ireland, from a collection called Irish Folk Tales by Henry Glassie, that I've owned for about 27 years.
I also receive regular press releases from Tourism Ireland ... in fact, the one I received Wednesday of this week was very interesting.
It was slugged, "St Patrick’s celebrations get the green light around the
world - Tourism Ireland’s Global Greening goes from strength to
strength with 190 major landmarks and sites taking part this year – celebrating
Ireland and St Patrick."
The reason I say it's interesting for me is because, as the release states, "Some 190 iconic landmarks and sites around the world will be
illuminated in green over the coming days – as part of Tourism Ireland’s 2016 Global Greening initiative to celebrate the island of Ireland and St Patrick."
It goes on to list many sites, and includes Canada: "several sites will join the Global Greening
celebrations includingthe 'green
lantern' of the Canadian Museum of Nature in Ottawa, Ontario" - which is a place I've visited.
At the Nature Museum, the reptiles chase St. Patrick...
My most recent visit to those places was to the Nature Museum. Amazing place, great for families, I could have spent an entire day there easily, rather than the few hours I had to squeeze in.
Swedish author and diplomat Dag Hammarskjold wrote,
"The longest journey
Is the journey inwards
Of him who has chosen his destiny."
The line is a comment about a spiritual journey.
All journeys are journeys of spirit, although how spiritual each one may be depends on where you're travelling, what you're doing, and what you frame of mind is at the time.
If you're visiting a spiritual site, it certainly helps. However, you don't have to be at a "spiritual site" to have an incredibly spiritual experience. I've had plenty of those just walking through a local park, or even sitting watching nature at play.
But I've also had some incredible spiritual experiences while travelling to other countries. And while visiting a spiritual site does not guarantee you'll be "spiritually enlightened," I challenge anyone to not feel some kind of awe or maybe feel just a little bit of "perhaps there's something bigger than me operating in the universe" when you stand at dawn, overlooking the temples and structures of Machu Picchu.
Aside from literally taking your breath away (it's a big of climb up from the parking lot to the site, in very thin air), watching the sun come over the mountains in the east and shining down upon the site will take away the breath of all but the most jaded viewers (who probably wouldn't be there in the first place.)
I was fortunate enough to experience this during a trip with Mountain Lodges of Peru several years ago. No matter what else I get to see in my lifetime, I have a hard time imagining it could be much greater than that (not to say I won't try, mind you!)
Exploring the site, looking far down into the valley below its precipitous sides, dodging one of the wild lamas that call it "home" really does force one to think about, well, everything.
That's a spiritual experience I've enjoyed high up among the clouds.
There was a good chance we'd see them, but no guarantee. Our leader led the six of us in a group prayer as we cruised out into the bay.
And we did see them. Then we got into the water with snorkel gear and swam around, never approaching, never touching them, just letting them come to us, if they chose. One swam right up to me underwater, looked at me a bit, then swam away. We even got to see a mother with a newly born baby swimming along beside her. We could hear them communicating with their clicks, whistles, and chirps.
If that's not a spiritual experience, I don't know what is.
Many of my spiritual experiences have involved birds. Every time I see parrots in the wild, as I have in Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and the Caribbean, it's a spiritual journey. Even seeing wild birds in a local park in B.C. is a spiritual experience for me.
Sandhill crane grooms near Delta, B.C.
Ditto when I'm paddling. When I dip my paddle repetitively in calm waters while canoeing or kayaking, it becomes zen-like. Padding through the early morning fog of Alberta's Maligne Lake, canoeing in a misty rain and following an eagle in Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan, seeing the biggest beaver ever during a desert paddling trip, kayaking down a river while hearing jungle sounds all around in Ecuador - they're all spiritual experiences.
And I cannot even begin to describe the feeling of seeing waterfalls like Mosi oa Tunya ("The Smoke that Thunders") or countless other small wilderness cascades.
Then there was the time I had a "weasel encounter" in Calgary's Fish Creek Provincial Park. Sitting there watching minnows swim around in a feeder stream, I got the distinct feeling something was there, looked over and five feet away sat a weasel, also mesmerized. I jumped a bit, it then jumped, and the spell was broken, but that encounter - and many more in the park I lived five minutes away from - was a great example of spiritual journeys taken close to home.
While natural surroundings seem to help me connect spiritually, I've also experienced some moving moments in more urban areas. At the top of that list: the Basilica Ste Anne de Beaupre in Quebec. When I visited there, I could not help but look up in awe at this structure that was too large to capture in a photo, even with a wide angle lens unless I stood back so far as to make the photo unappealing.
Inside, it's not much different. I'm not a huge fan of architecture, but this place is really special. Allow yourself plenty of time to be awed if you visit there.
These are just a sampling of my own spiritual wanderings. There are so many places to visit, so many ways to take spiritual journeys, doing so really is a life-long adventure, an exploration of self and our relation to the Universe.
Ecuador's Rio Shiripuno: one of many magical rivers I've journeyed upon.
In the book Wind in the Willows, author Kenneth Grahame wrote, "There’s nothing… absolutely nothing… half so much worth doing as simply messing around in boats."
As someone who has been paddling for more than 50 years now, I can't disagree with that. People often ask me if I prefer river trips to canoe circuits involving a chain of lakes and ponds. They are quite different types of trips, although they both involve water. The former involves starting at one point and finishing at another; the latter, travelling in a circle and returning to your original starting point. They both have their good points, but the one thing that differentiates a river trip is the fact that it's an exciting journey that potentially sees you never return to where you begin from. That's not always the case, because you may end up shuttling back to your original starting point - but then again, you may not. On circuit trips you can often go either direction, clockwise or counterclockwise. Paddling in either direction can be l-i-t-t-l-e bit harder on a river unless you're on a really slow moving river. Paddling upstream - unless you're a salmon looking to spawn - is a lot of work and not the most pleasant kind of activity to engage in.
Time to get wet again, on the Zambezi River! (Photo by Zambezi Video Productions.)
Because of that, there is a magic to rivers, something you feel even if you don't paddle on one. When I was in high school, I used to walk past a river - the Holland River coming out of Fairy Lake in Newmarket - and there was always something about walking past that spot, especially during the spring runoff, that set my imagination to working. There is a timelessness to rivers, which is why they have the power to transport us across space and time. Often when you're paddling down a river in a canoe or kayak, you're paddling through history, because thousands of others have probably paddled there, most likely for several centuries. Many times when I canoe - and this is one of the aspects of all canoeing that really appeals to me - I like to imagine I'm a voyageur of old, heading into the wilderness for the Northwest Company, engaged in the fur trade of the late 18th and early 19th centuries across the wilds of Canada. My first canoe trips as a youth took me through areas in Ontario that were probably used by the voyageurs, although most of the paddling I did then was on lakes, ponds and very slow rivers.
Rollin' down the river - the Chao Phraya River in Thailand, that is
Since then I've gone on to paddle or travel on many rivers:
I've canoed on the Athabasca, Red Deer, Bow, and Freeman Rivers in Alberta;
kayaked the Harrison River in B.C., and whitewater rafted on the Kicking Horse, Thompson and Fraser Rivers in that province;
Because I have always loved being out in nature, on rivers and streams - and for that matter ponds and lakes - I developed an interest in conservation at a very early age. When I was 12, I decided to study forestry in university, to help conserve our natural resources. I started down that path but got sidetracked by a strong interest in journalism and broadcasting.
One of the locals paddles a dugout canoe on Borneo's Kinabatangan River.
However, my concern about the importance of conservation of our rivers is just as strong - if not stronger - than it was all those years ago. We ALL should be concerned. Water from rivers gives us life. Without it, life can be extremely difficult. It not only supplies water to drink but habitat for the fish we eat, as well as other animals that depend on the water and fish that live there to survive. That's why it's important to recognize and perhaps even attend a local event or two during World Rivers Day, which this year falls on Sunday, Sept. 27. There are several events going on at different venues in British Columbia to celebrate B.C. Rivers Day. For example, the city of Burnaby will host an event at the Burnaby Village Museum; the Fraser River Discovery Centre will host its annual Riverfest event, starting Thursday, Sept. 24 and running through until Saturday the 26th. There are many other events all over the province, the country and the world, too numerous to list all of them here. But a quick search online should provide you with details about local events. Many involve music, conservation and nature displays, some paddle-oriented activities, and plenty of other stuff for families to enjoy - and learn about how we call can help keep our rivers healthy. I started off with a quote, and I'll finish with one, by environmentalist and author David Brower. "We must begin thinking like a river if we are to leave a legacy of beauty and life for future generations."
G.I. Joe, G.I. Joe, hiking fool from head to toe... Never actually got this pack.
If you spend anytime travelling - even if your biggest adventure involves a trip to a museum -
chances are, you've probably used a backpack of some kind.
Many of us have owned and used many different sizes and styles of backpacks over the years.
If you spend much time in the out of doors, you might be what consider to be a back pack expert.
I wouldn't call myself an expert, I feel a bit uncomfortable accepting that kind of term. I do know what works for me, and I can say what good and bad experiences I've had throughout the decades.
But thinking back to all the backpacks I've used over the years also brings back memories of the trips I've taken with them. And those memories are all pretty fond ones.
I first desired a backpack - or knapsack as we called it then - when I first went to Camp Richildaca near Kettleby, Ontario. We were going on a nature hike, and I wanted a pack to carry my lunch in, along with any other supplies I might need (which really weren't much, since it was only a two or three hour hiking adventure.)
I didn't get one that first summer. But the following summer I did, although not without some grief from my dad.
We'd visited relatives in Detroit for a week before I went to camp that year and spent one day getting a toy for me. My dad knew I wanted a knapsack for camp, and in the toy store, you could get an official "G.I. Joe knapsack and (plastic) entrenching shovel," it was part of the line of life-sized toys that complemented the popular boys' soldier-doll. (PC people like to call it "action figure," but hey, we knew it was a doll. Our answer to girls' Barbie. And he could kick Ken's ass. But I digress).
Anyway, he urged me to get that, but I chose the toy M-1 carbine instead (Hey, why get a knapsack when I can get another gun for my growing arsenal, eh?).
So, when I went to camp, at the end of the first week, I was bugging my dad for a knapsack. Even had one picked out that I liked. It was green, had "Trailblazer" written on the back. But my dad said, "You should have gotten the GI Joe pack!"
My official Boy Scout backpack.
It took a bit of cajoling, but eventually I got my pack. Looking back, it wasn't much, didn't even fasten with buckles, just a tie like a shoelace. But I loved it.
Then it was time to move up to a better model. And again I had a bit of a tussle with my dad over this issue. He thought to go to camp it would be much better if I just had some kind of big duffel bag, kind of like a hockey bag for all my clothing and gear.
But my dad was not that much of an outdoorsman; I knew there were going to be overnight canoe trips and overnight backpacking trips at this camp, and a duffel bag was not going to be very good for hauling gear through the woods on my back, so again I cajoled him and eventually got the pack I wanted.
It was a gray knapsack, an "official" Scouts Canada pack purchased at the local Jack Fraser store (the official supplier of Scouts Canada back then) It did not have any kind of frame with it, it was really more of a larger day pack rather than a multi-day pack, but it had one mean compartment, two side pockets, and a smaller outside pocket on the back ... it was just exactly what I wanted and it worked great on the canoe trip - my very first overnight canoe trip, to Drag Lake in the Haliburton Highlands! - and then on my very first overnight backpacking camping trip as well.
That particular backpack did me for several more years until I hit 18 and was planning my very first "no-adults" overnight canoe trip in Algonquin Park.
Now this was a big thing for me, because every other canoe trip I never been on was supervised by someone older - a scoutmaster, a junior forest ranger foreman - so this was a special rite of passage trip.
Time for a Taymor! Mine was blue not red, but same style.
I had my eye on a backpacking frame in Canadian Tire where I worked that summer. It was really cool, because it was essentially red with a white flap to cover everything - and it had a red maple leaf in the middle ... essentially it was a giant Canadian flag.
I bought it, and I loved that pack, using that for the next several years. For a few years, I stopped taking overnight camping trips just because I was in university and was often working and didn't have time to plan or carry out such trips.
Eventually I graduated moved out west and when it was time for me to go on a new outdoor adventure, it was time for a new backpack because the "flag-pack" had seen better days, it was 16 years old and hadn't been in any shape to take out west.
So off I went to my neighborhood sporting goods store and got a Taymor pack. My first trip with that was a three-day solo backpacking trip in Jasper National Park, to Jacques Lake. It did me for several more trips after that, canoeing the Bowron Lake circuit twice, and on some other camping trips. But as with all backpacks, when your travel style changes, often your pack has to change as well.
For my first international trip to Belize - a two-week trip that involved sea-kayaking, hiking, horseback riding, caving, and all kinds of great outdoor stuff - I needed a suitcase. But I also needed some kind of small day pack.
A friend of mine lent me a catalog from Mountain Equipment Co-op, which I'd never heard of at that point in time. But they had something which was perfect: a very rugged cross between a suitcase and a duffel bag but which also had a smaller day pack that fastened to the main bag with straps and became part of the whole unit.
The suitcase itself could be turned into a backpack for longer trips as it had an internal pack frame. The detachable day pack was great, because it could carry food, a change of clothes, a camera, water bottle, and any number of things you might need to access when you're kayaking in the Caribbean or hiking through the Central American jungle.
Still use my MEC pack today, 25 years later.
This one is lasted a long time - in fact, I still use it today for some travel, which means it's pretty darn durable. Since I bought it 1991,that means I've had it for almost 25 years in it still works. Yeah, here it comes... "They don't make much stuff like that any more."
Once I started doing freelance photography, which involved a lot of hiking in the mountains and other outdoor areas in and around Calgary and southern Alberta, I needed something sturdy and functional in which to carry my camera gear, since I wasn't using just a point-and-shoot any more.
It's still my favourite backpack for carrying camera gear. It's been vary durable, although I have had replaced the zippers on the one I currently use on a couple of occasion . But it's 15 years old, so it doesn't owe me anything.
It's helped me photograph parrots in the Caribbean, orangutans in Malaysia, temples in Thailand and the vista of Machu Picchu in Peru.
Let's see, did I bring my cards?
Everybody who knows me knows I love to paddle and when you're canoeing or kayaking it's always nice to have something to keep you clothing and gear dry.
I used to just pack the frames and backpacks into the canoe, but there was no guarantee, they would stay dry unless we put a tarp over them. And once we started kayaking, well, you can't fit a pack frame into a kayak storage compartment.
So we evolved to dry bags. They're very handy for paddling, even canoeing, if you don't have any long portages, but they are meant more for kayaking than canoeing. Some come with straps and some bags even have an apparatus that turns them into backpacks.
However they do not become the kind of backpacks you would take with you on a camping trip into the mountains.
Guaranteed to keep stuff dry.
I think back fondly to all the backpacks I've used...As we go forward in life, we of course have to make room in our lives by letting go of certain things, we can't keep every single thing (although sometimes I wish we could.)
But I get wistful every now and then when I think back to all those first trips I took - my first nature hike, first overnight canoe trip, first overnight camping trip, first overnight canoe trip planned on my own, and my first international trip. Most of the backpacks I took on most of those trips are long gone.
Some wore out, some were donated ... but they're all so old, they've probably all bitten the dust, I doubt if any of them are even around, never mind in use any more.
Although today's modern day, super light, multi-purpose materials may make lighter and more waterproof and more functional backpacks, there's no taking the place of the memories associated with those old packs.
familiar one to those who watched any television prior to the age of cable, satellite and high resolution digital TV.
Although cable companies still do experience technical issues, it doesn't seem to carry the same impact it did when there were only a few stations available to watch in any given city or area.
However, the phrase takes on a different meaning when it refers to the human body.
Although it varies in degree from person to person, we all experience "technical difficulties" with our bodies as they age. And although we would rather resist it, we do have to make adjustments.
This was borne home to me last month when a planned canoe trip had to be aborted because of a flare-up of an old knee injury, an event that reared its ugly head right out of the blue at a very bad time.
I'd already sustained a wrist injury the first week of May, slipping in a boat in Mexico, but was bound and determined not to let it stop me from participating. It was not broken, just very badly bent (ha-ha), but with a brace and some ibuprofen, I was ready to tough it out, it was just a sprain. After all, I'd developed some bad tendinitis in my left forearm on the second day of a four-day kayak trip in the Everglades, and that didn't stop me...
But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men.
A week before I was supposed to leave for Ontario, I was warming up in a local pool during a deep water aqua fit class. This is my main form of regular exercise, it works the muscles and joints and provides a good aerobic workout as well - and with little or no stress on the joints. Supposedly.
Well, there I was, just doing a slow bicycling motion I've done hundreds of times, and I felt something go "Snick!" in my left knee. I ignored it and did the class. The knee has already been surgically repaired once after two dislocated patellas; I also hyper-extended it badly playing softball years after that. So it was not exactly in primo condition.
By the next day, it was swollen and I had trouble walking. There went any exercise for the next few days. I got my RMT to work on it a bit - but it's a joint, so hard to do anything with it, given its history. I tried all kinds of lineaments, and analgesics and oils, applying them two to three times a day, icing it twice a day...and there was a bit of improvement, but it was still a bit tight, a bit swollen, and a bit weak. I planned to go canoeing all the same.
However, the day I was supposed to head out to Kawarthas Highland Provincial Park, it was pouring rain. That would mean the portage routes would be slick - and deadly for someone with a wonky knee, even if it was supported by a brace. Because the park's wilderness interior is accessible only by canoe or plane, any accident would probably mean a medical evacuation by air. So, at the last minute, I thought discretion would be the better part of valour in this instance, especially since my ability to travel would affect the others taking this trip.
I felt devastated. I'd been looking forward to this trip for a year. Not just for the trip itself, but the writing and photography opportunities that it would present for me.
Carving my own paddle at the Canoe Museum was great;
paddling would have been greater.
I was able to replace the trip with a three-day paddle-carving experience in the Canadian Canoe Museum. It was a very enjoyable three days, the museum is a wonderful place, I wish I could have spent more time there, actually.
But it was not the same as a wilderness paddle trip.
It had been five years since I had done an overnight extended paddling trip in the wilderness and my soul thrives on those kinds of experiences.
After the devastation came the depression. I envisioned a future with no overnight paddling trips. If my knee gave out in something easy like aqua fit, could I ever risk doing an extended wilderness canoe trip again? If I couldn't do deep water aqua fit - one of the least joint-stressful exercises - what would I do for exercise?
Because of the busy schedule facing me over the next several weeks, I did not have time to ponder that question too much. But when I returned home finally, the thoughts returned with me.
Paddling along a lake at sunset: food for my soul.
The thought of never going on an overnight paddling trip again scared me. I've enjoyed such wonderful experiences on these trips, most of the truly memorable moments of my life have been on these trips. But if my body is breaking down, and makes it dangerous to myself and others to continue doing those trips, it becomes difficult to enjoy those kinds of experiences. The frustrating aspect of all this is the fact that I DO try to exercise regularly, and engage in non-stressful exercises like aqua fit, yoga, some light weight work with bands. But even those seem to present problems, these days.
So after some soul-searching on the matter, I thought, "Well, would there be a way to do these without the stress of something like a portage?"
Obviously, there is always the sea kayaking option, trips where there are no portages involved. But that doesn't allow me to experience some of the inland beauty of nature I so enjoy, having grown up paddling in places like Haliburton and Algonquin Park.
I looked at a map of Kawarthas Park and almost immediately experienced an "Aha!" moment.
There were routes that one could take that would not involve many portages, at all. And some would involve only short portages, not 1200 metre hikes with canoes and gear on one's back.
Another approach also came to me: I associate canoe trips as trips done on a complete circuit, trips where you travel and camp at a different spot every night, eventually winding up back where you start. Those involve hauling all your gear down a portage trail. But what if I paddled/portaged for one day only, to a spot far enough away to be off the beaten track, and then just set up a base camp there, and explored other lakes on day trips, where the only thing I'd need to portage would be a canoe and lunch?
That could certainly work.
While I wish I could still hump down a mile-long portage with a canoe on my back, put it down, then race back to grab the packs at the other end and do it again, given my body's age and mileage factors, that's just not realistic. Yeah, I can exercise (if I can find a way not to hurt myself exercising!) but I do that now. Even with regular exercise, I won't be entering any canoehead races any time, soon. Others my age may be able to do that, but it's not in my future. I have to accept that. And that is not giving up; there is a difference between just giving up and making adjustments according to circumstances.
Views like this from a wilderness campsite are what make canoe tripping so appealing.
I can still have a full life for my last few decades on this planet. In other words, with a few tweaks, by making a few adjustments, I could still enjoy the wilderness by canoe.
So, my 60-year-old body is presenting me with "technical difficulties." And if I want to continue to enjoy what I enjoy, I just have to "adjust my set."
Adjusting for technical difficulties is what living life is really all about. And the ultimate acceptance of that is incredibly freeing.
Now with the "technical difficulties" out of the way, I just have to make sure I can avoid having to use the "emergency broadcasting system."
You can hike or canoe to Grey Owl's cabin in Saskatchewan.
So you want to experience an iconic Canadian moment, eh?
Well, if you're planning a trip to Canada, here are some of the really great experiences you should set your sights on if you're planning a trip to Canada.
I do admit a bit of bias, since I love getting outdoors and experiencing nature. Most of these are all experiences I've enjoyed myself and I've tried to include all parts of the country. It was really tough keeping it to 10, but I had to stop somewhere, or I'd be still be writing.
1. Paddle a canoe in Algonquin Provincial Park.For me, paddling in this park is the ultimate experience, although not everyone likes to "rough it." But even doing it just once should bring immense rewards. Gliding past scenery immortalized by artist Tom Thomson, you can see otters playing in a creek, herons winging overhead, raccoons and deer sauntering along the shore; you'll here the wild and iconic sound of a loon. There are plenty of ways to do it. You can rent canoes and do your own trip and supply your own meals; you can get the folks at the Portage Store to outfit you; you can even hire a guiding service if you're a neophyte wilderness paddler. If an overnight trip is too much, just take a canoe out for a few hours. Lodges like Killarney provide free canoes for their guests.
2. Take in an NHL game between the Toronto Maple Leafs and Montreal Canadiens. While the Leafs have been pretty bad lately, there's still something about the atmosphere in the arena when these two decades-old rivals meet. Despite the Leafs' recent woes, they are still #2 in total Stanley Cup wins - second only to Montreal. Plan well in advance, or be prepared to pay exorbitant scalpers' prices in either Toronto or Montreal. If you just can't get tickets, then take in a CFL game. It's a bit different from the NFL experience and much more affordable in any of the league's nine cities.
Be sure to paddle a canoe in Algonquin.
You might even have time to fish.
3. Go polar bear or beluga whale watching in Manitoba.This is still on my "to-do" list. The province is world-renowned for getting visitors up close to the big white bruins in "bear-buggies." At certain times of the year (summer) it's possible to see bears from Zodiacs in the Churchill area. As for Belugas ... you can see them from rafts, or even snorkel alongside them.
4. Visit Grey Owl's cabin in Prince Albert National Park.A man ahead of his time in terms of espousing a conservation ethic, the man portrayed by Pierce Brosnan in the 1999 film worked as a warden in this central Saskatchewan park and his cabin on Lake Ajawaan is still there. You can hike in all the way, or you can combine a visit as part of a canoe trip in the park's back country. There are great wildlife and bird watching opportunities here.
You can get poutine burgers in Vancouver, but for the best poutine, try Quebec.
5. Eat something Canadian.You want poutine? You can get it just about anywhere, but if you want the best, get it in Quebec, since this combination of French fries, cheese curds, and gravy originated in that province. What about butter tarts? There's actually butter tart trails and tours in Ontario. If you're in Ottawa, be sure to sample a beaver tail (it's a pastry, not an actual rodent appendage.) Ottawa also has a poutine-fest, if you can't get to Quebec.
6. Spend some time among the dinosaurs. Alberta's badlands offer a couple of great places to look into the past. Dinosaur Provincial Park, near Brooks, is a UNESCO World Heritage site. Guided hikes take you into places where you can see fossils. It also is home to the field station for the Royal Tyrell Museum. The museum proper is near Drumheller. The scenery in both places is spectacular, especially if you don't really associate deserts and hoodoos with Canada.
7. Hike to the Lake Agnes Teahouse. This sits above gorgeous Lake Louise, Alberta. Spend an afternoon hiking up the switchbacks of this trail and enjoy incredible views of the lake, then enjoy homemade soup, sandwiches, and cookies before heading back down to the trailhead.
It's hard to beat the beauty of a badlands sunset.
8. Visit Spirit Island. Sitting halfway down Jasper National Park's Maligne Lake, this spot may be one of the most photographed places in Canada. Tour boats take visitors down to this spot. You can also paddle there in a canoe or kayak, as there are a pair of backcountry campsites on the lake, halfway down and at the end of the lake.
9. Raft the Fraser River. Roaring through Hell's Gate on a motorized whitewater raft was one of my bucket list items I crossed off very early when I moved out west several years ago. I liked it so much, I did it again, three years later. After shooting through the rapids, take time to ride the gondola across the river which will give you a birds' eye view of what you've been through.
10. Go puffin-watching in Cape Breton. This Nova Scotia island offers much for visitors to enjoy, but if you like birds and wildlife, you won't want to miss out on the opportunity to see these cute-looking birds that look something like a cross between a penguin and a parrot. This is another one on my "to-do" list, which I hope to check off next year.
