Roaming Retirees; whats

There are certain backcountry trails that we like to ski over and over as they bring us so many memories. One day, it might be snow-covered trees sculpted in different shapes that catch our imagination. Another day, it is the rushing water from a nearly frozen stream. It might also be the sight of white-capped mountains shining in the sun under a perfectly blue ski. It was with this perspective in mind that we headed toward Paradise Valley, in Lake Louise area.

That morning, when crossing the open area along Fairview trail, we were greeted by a colourful spectacle. From the night's condensation and cold temperature, the entire area was covered with thousands of snow crystals ... diamonds glistening in the morning sun. As the sun reflected from each crystal, the field was a rainbow of colours. It was a stunning view!

Once at the Paradise Valley junction, we chose to ski along the stream instead of up the trail in the forest. Although we often need to break trail on that route, we enjoy the openness of the wide valley. Our trail-breaking efforts were rewarded by the sight of bushes and small coniferous trees adorned with fragile ice crystals, all glittering in the sun like hundreds of Christmas decorations.

As we skied beside the open part of the stream, we saw a most amazing sight. Suspended on strands of moss, a collection of ice crystals of amazing shapes decorated standing dead trees, as if to offer them a last moment of glory. Even though we spent some time observing them to understand their structure and equilibrium of forces in action, we could not uncover the mystery of their formation. How does Mother Nature come up with such architectural art pieces?

On our way back, all these marvels had melted under the afternoon sun. For a few hours in the morning, we had been witness to another of nature's ephemeral beauty pageants!

Imagine seeing a procession of Victorian ladies dressed in green coats, decorated with white fancy lace, tall men wearing large Turkish turbans, and elderly people bending under heavy loads... these were the images that nature had sculpted from snow on our way to Shadow Lake this winter.

We skied up the Red Earth Creek trail to Shadow Lake in the early morning under a perfect blue sky. We were hoping to see Mount Ball spreading its shadow over the frozen lake, even though we knew that the weather is often quite unstable in the area. As expected, half way to our destination, it started to snow lightly. Then, as we reached higher elevation, a gusting wind came up. We looked for a sheltered spot in the coniferous forest for lunch, knowing that the view would be nicer near the lake, but a lot windier.

With the energizing effect of the wind, we reached the bridge at the lake outlet. In the cold stream water, an American dipper, a little bird not afraid of wetting its feet, was bobbing from one rock to the other in search of larvae. Inspired by its courage we decided to continue our journey along the lake, ignoring the drifting snow and brisk wind.

We were rewarded for our perseverance, as in the tracks left by preceding skiers we could see the rare footprints of a wolverine. We followed its signature in the fresh snow for about half a kilometre before the tracks headed into the forest, perhaps following the scent of a squirrel or other animal.

As we continued, white sails of a ghost ship appeared in the mist ... wind-whipped and ethereal, Mount Ball appeared, then disappeared in the swirling white snow. A haunting howling of wind across the lake added to the effect, and gusts of wind-driven snow swirled up like spray from ocean waves. It was a magical scene, with images drifting in and out of focus in the snow.

As we skied on, bent into the wind, we agreed that blue-and-white winter days are wonderful, but moody, misty days have a charm of their own in the mountains.

It is a rare year that the large mountain lakes sleep under a sheet of ice without a blanket of snow. This year, with the mild temperature at the beginning of the season and the scarcity of snow, Minnewanka Lake in Banff area was waiting patiently the first real cold nights to finally rest under a thick layer of ice.

After waiting for almost 10 years, today we could put on our skates and glide on the 18 km long skating rink of Minnewanka Lake. Many others winter-lovers got together to take advantage of this exceptional occasion.

At first, it was with some caution that we took our first gliding strokes, aware that on such a large lake there might be many cracks and bumps along the way. Our concerns soon vanished but watchfulness remained.

As we glided down the lake, we were filled a feeling of freedom from skating on such an immense skating rink surrounded by snow capped mountains. Half an hour down the lake, we reached the narrows. We had just skated over the archaeological site of Minnewanka Landing, the first resort in Banff area with its beaches, hotel and houses. This village was built in 1888, but was completely submerged 1941 with the construction of a dam, leaving under water a ghost-town with its sandy beaches. In the depths below were old houses, a hotel, and even an old dock from bygone years.

Leaving behind that historic page, we continued to engrave our own story on the immense ice sheet. New vista's of mountains and blue sky opened as we rounded a bend in the lake. After two hours of skating, we turned around to skate back, following our etched skate-marks on the ice. Like those before us, our tale would vanish beneath the blue waters of this immense lake ... in spring when the ice melts.

With ice cleats on our boots, we carefully walked along the snow-covered trail up Johnston Canyon. We had often visited the area during summer when the tumultuous water from snowmelt made us feel full of energy. We wondered how it would look during winter when everything was frozen.

As expected, the deep canyon was silent. There was barely any sound, not even the shrilling sound of a squirrel or the song of a bird. In this frozen world, only the green moss hanging from high cliffs added contrast to the frozen white world around us.

As we continued up the canyon, we began to hear the gurgling of water running under a thin layer of ice and then reappearing swiftly in the next curve. We paused now and then to enjoy the bubbling water that swirled up from the base of the many falls on its journey down the smooth, water-sculpted canyon.

A cave through a rock wall brought us to the first large falls, with water cascading under ice then surging up into a cauldron of black, icy water. As in the summer, the sound and power was thrilling and energizing. After enjoying the sights and sounds for a few minutes, we continued up the trail to the upper falls, the largest in a series of frozen cascades.

A narrow trail along the stream lead us to the middle of a spectacular amphitheatre. Tall pillars of ice covering the rock wall looked like a giant pipe organ in a frozen cathedral of white and blue, which turned indigo as the late afternoon daylight faded. In the alcove, the 30-metre fall created a symphony of sounds, from the deep thundering bass of the waterfall, to the tenor sound of water under the ice, and the high soprano of small pieces of ice against the frozen shoreline.

We stood awestruck, taking in the sights and sounds of the waterfall until cold, moist air seeped through our clothing. Then, with memories of a blue and white world, we headed back down the trail.

Just when we thought we had skied almost every cross-country trail in the Lake Louise area, we discovered another area. In early January, a friend invited us to ski the Pipestone trail system. We had already heard about it, but not paid too much attention as we have our favourite trails in Lake Louise area. We accepted the invitation with an open-mind: after all, a day outside, in good company is always a good day!

After a quick look on the trail map, we decided to start with the 13km loop called Pipestone trail. In no time we found ourselves on a narrow, winding trail in a coniferous forest. Even with these tall trees, our surrounding seemed bright and very peaceful with the fresh snow. Branches were laden with a heavy blanket of white, and rocks and stumps took on toadstool-like characteristics. Here and there, we could hear the joyous chick-a-dee-dee of these small, energetic birds.

After climbing several long but gentle slopes, we zigzagged through a thicker forest and skied along the Pipestone River cliff with tantalizing views of the river below. We took great pleasure in gliding effortlessly on the well-groomed trail as it continued through the forest and past two small lakes.

We enjoyed this quiet area, with its inviting forest and well maintained trails. Few people were out on the trail, and it was a pleasant change from the busier trails closer to Lake Louise.

When we think of cactus, we imagine a hot environment where the blazing sun dries up the thirsty plants. For the cactus that grow in Drumheller, the image that develops as seasons change is very different.

We drove to Rosebud, small village in the Albertan prairies, for a dinner-theatre show at the local theatre. After the show, we headed to Drumheller to spend the night with the intent of exploring the Badlands in the frigid weather of early December.

In the morning, we woke up with a thin layer of fresh on the ground. When we arrived at the Suspension Bridge across the Red Deer River that had taken miners to the Atlas #2 coal mines years ago, we were greeted by the most enchanting scenery. The grey, brown, and red brick sandstone sculpted by the erosion had lost some of it harshness under the blanket of white. With anticipation, we crossed the bridge to get a closer look at the transformation.

We spotted some smoke coming from a nearby cliff, and followed animals tracks in the snow to get to the breach in the ground. All around the chimneys, patches of deep green moss were growing under the combined effects of the warmth created by the burning coal deep in the Earth and the melting snow. Who would have imagined such a splash of green in the Badlands in December!

As we continued our exploration, we noticed that each crack, each crevasse and coulee were covered with snow blown there by the wind. In these areas that we found plants that has taken root to take advantage of this precious moisture in the desert landscape.

And the cactus! Well protected by the snow, they were waiting warmer days to bloom again.

The magic of a small feathered creature trusing me enough to land in my hand! This is how I felt when a tiny chickadee landed gently in my outstretched palm, then another one and one more. First, it was their approach that caught our attention. From trees nearby we could the heard their Tchic-a-di-di-di. Having encountered human being before, they flew lightly over and around us to check if we had anything to offer. Then they moved away as if they were ignoring us, then came back and perched on a branch nearby.

Suddenly, a light pinch from their tiny claws gripping my fingers surprised me. How so delicate a bird can develop so much strength with their minuscule feet? Then, with its neck slightly stretched upward, the little chickadee looked at me with deep black eyes... the same look as a child asking permission to get a second cookie.

It was during our last visit to Edmonton that we went to meet the birds. We went out for a hike in the Whitemud River Valley to take advantage of a perfect sunny afternoon. Before leaving home, we made sure to fill our pockets with sunflower seeds, a favourite treat for chickadees and other small birds.

After walking for about half a kilometre, we were welcomed by a flock of chickadee. They took turn to feed directly in our hand. And surprise! A nuthatch, attracted by the joyous song of the chickadee also felt invited to the festive meal. For us, as for the birds, it was a real treat!

We continued our hike, stopping here and there to feed more chickadees and to listen to other birds who overwintered in the valley. Then, close by, we heard the toc toc of a woodpecker. As real-life Sherlock Holmes, we walked slowly hoping to get a glimpse of it. Up there, clinging to a dead tree was the tallest of our woodpeckers, the Pileated Woodpecker, with its red forehead and its red crest.

Once more, what began as a pleasant walk in the valley turned out to be full of memorable moments with our feathered friends.

In early November, winter-lovers look for areas where the snow has started settling in for the season. The old-fashioned information-sharing network of relayed information was working well, and we learned that the snow conditions were excellent in Highwood Pass, in Kananaskis.

As we had never been to this area at this time of the year before, we were quite pleased to explore this new opportunity for early-winter activities. We brought along snowshoes, and rapidly made our way through the thick forest towards Pocaterra Cirque. After a couple of steep ascents and descents we found ourselves in an immense snow-draped amphitheatre, surrounded by mountains.

Snowshoeing up along the creek partly covered with ice and snow, we entered the Pocaterra Cirque. The area is spectacular. On our left, Grizzly Pass with its steep slopes, and in front of us, the majestic Mount Tyrwhitt with its 2874m peak. On our right, we gazed on the crest of Pocaterra Ridge. We stopped for a snack and to take time to measure the beauty of the surrounding as well as to listen to the silence in which we were immersed.

After exploring the high pass, we began our long descent. Once in the valley, we heard a brushing noise from the bushes. As we turned, our eyes rested on a magnificent moose that was making its way along the creek. After gazing at us for only a few seconds, he quickly disappeared in the forest, allowing us just enough time to appreciate sharing our universe with such a rare creature in the area!

Imagine skating on a giant frozen fish tank ... peering through crystal-clear ice, and viewing algae and other fresh water plants swaying with the gentle current. Watching your shadow moving on the sandy bottom of the lake. Or even following the erratic path of fish as they swam ahead of the sound of blades on ice. For us, this dream came true when we first stepped onto the frozen surface of Johnson Lake in Banff National Park.

This year, as the snow was a bit reluctant to fall in the Bow River valley, winter lovers were looking for an alternative to skiing. We were waiting for a couple of cold nights to freeze the ponds and alpine lakes. The news quickly spread that the lake in Banff was ready for skating. As many others, we wanted to check for ourselves: would the ice be as smooth as a mirror, or too rough and covered with cracks? Would it be thick enough to allow several dozen people to skate together?

All conditions were fulfilled to make this pre-winter event a success. Some, hand in hand, were skating wherever their skates led them. Others, with more energy were zooming from end to end of the kilometre-long lake at full-speed. New immigrants were learning to move on this unfamiliar surface on narrow blades without crashing heavily onto the ice. Here and there, small groups of hockey players were having their first outdoor game of the season. Between skating sessions, BBQ lovers were savouring their burgers with great appetite. Even Fido had come to test his abilities to walk on this slippery, crystal like surface!

Swish! Swish! AAAh! These are sounds we had not heard for several months ... sounds of our cross country skis gliding on the fresh snow and the exlamation of joy to find ourselves back on the ski trails.

For the past few days we had watched the horizon hoping to see, even in a far distance, the first big grey clouds advertising a good snowfall. Finally, that day arrived. However, it was not without some doubts that we drove to Lake Louise area hoping to enjoy an early season ski trip.

We were excited to put on our skis right at the start of the Moraine Lake ski trail. All around us, trees and bushes were shinning with ice crystas. Late blooming flowers, and tenacious grasses were waving their farewell as they prepared to hibernate under a blanket of white. In the fresh snow we could see footprints of a bear searching for a good den for the winter. As we continued the trail was punctuated by tracks of snowwhoe hare, pine martens, and squirrels. Farther down the trail, we saw signs of the laborious walk of a porcupine who was probably wishing that the snow could have waited a bit.

As we could imagine, winter was not welcome by everyone the same way. But, one thing we were sure is that the few hikers we met were quite envious to see us skiing down the snowy slopes!

Every autumn, it seems that the fragrances of nature are amplified. At least, it was the impression we had when we went for a walk in the Badlands near Drumheller, Alberta. As the sun warmed the cool morning air, perfume from a variety of sage plants wafted across the land, accenting the pungent aroma of fallen leaves underfoot.

That weekend, we met friends for a dinner-theatre show in Rosebud, a small community very active in many artistic pursuits. We also decided to explore the Badlands in Midland Provincial Park.

With information gathered at the tourist information centre, we headed out for a day of adventure, knowing that the trails in the Badlands do not last long in the sandy landscape. We certainly used our route-finding skills to wend our way through a maze of sandstone sculptures, thirsty cactus, golden grass and sage as we hiked to an old coal mining site.

At the end of September, nature still had a lot to offer. In addition to the rich autumn colours and fragrances, we had the pleasure of seeing chipmunks scurrying across rocky outcrops, a large hare sitting motionless under a sage bush, and several deer bounding among brush, bushes and crevasses ... all highlights of a day wandering the Badlands!

Our feet are walking on one-billion-year old rocks. Long ago, these mountains were as high as the Himalaya. Today, they reach about 1000 metres. We are in the Parc des Hautes-Gorges-de-la-Rivière-Malbaie, in Charlevoix area, in Québec.

The hike seemed promising even for us, coming from the Rockies. We are used to hike in forests covered with pine trees. Now we found ourselves surrounded by birch, maple, and tall mountain ash trees. It is under the charm of a lively stream coming down the steep slopes that we began our journey. The only slight issue was that we were climbing in the opposite direction!

Within a few kilometres we had already gained 500 metres! Fortunately, the occasions to stop for pictures were numerous. Sometimes, it was the rock stairs, proud witnesses of the artisans’ hard work to build the trail that captured our admiration. Often, it was the vegetation, particularly the wide variety of mushrooms that caught our attention. There were also precious moments when, as the leafy trees were swaying in the wind, the sunlight was dancing on the green moss.

Finally, after ascending 800 metres, we had an unforgettable view of the Malbaie River, an aquamarine thread nested in the green forest. Farther away in the mountains, we could see many foaming falls rolling down the rocky walls to feed the river below. And before leaving the summit, a last look allowed us to see the Saint-Laurent River on the horizon, a river synonym of travel... and dreams!

Our days of autumn cycling in Quebec brought a cornucopia of smells that constantly changed throughout our journey. First came the fresh odour of the country side and of crops ready to be harvested. Farther along the way, falling leaves left behind a subtle aroma of humus. Here and there, the sweet fragrance of red apples hanging on century-old apple trees teased our appetite, along with the mixed smells of wild berries growing along the trail. And, of course, I should mention the distinct aroma of the cows munching peacefully in the fields.

It was with a gentle breeze that we began our cycling journey in the Chaudière-Appalaches, in Québec. We left Lévis following a well-marked path along the road, until we came to the Cycloroute, a 74 km stretch of asphalted cycling path in the area, which followed the path of the railway that had joined villages and carried farm crops to market..

All along the way, grasshoppers and crickets entertained us with their end of summer songs. In the fields, the blond-headed corn was swaying in the breeze, as cyclists of all ages passed by on this warm September day. Passing through the maple forest, trees joined their branches above us to form long arches where the sun filtered through the leaves. Farther along, the Etchemin River flowed ebullently over flat, polished rocks, bringing us to a halt on an old railway bridge to admire the view.

After a well deserved stop for lunch, we turned back, reliving the countryside scenes. While passing dozens of smiling people enjoying this autumn day, we felt the tranquility of the leisurely Sunday afternoon.

Once again, we made our annual trek to the West Coast for a sea-kayaking sojourn. We spent two weeks exploring the Gulf Islands, enjoying a stretch of warm, windless days. Early August seems to be the most stable weather on the coast, and this year brought exceptionally good weather.

A highlight of our trip was camping on magical islands, waking to the salty smell of the sea and the raspy call of seagulls. Spending all day and night by the sea brought a new dimension to exploring the coast. We had been a bit concerned about fitting all our camping gear, food, and water into the narrow hulls of the kayaks, but with careful packing it all fit in ... with some room left over for wine!

Late one evening, the calmness of the sea was so inviting that we decided to go paddling as the sun neared the horizon. On our way back, as the sun was setting, the sky and the sea transformed themselves in a giant watercolour painting that constantly changed as the blue and orange mixed together in infinite of shades. It was with these marvellous images in mind and the quietness of the area that we silently paddled back to our white sandy beach.

Our final morning brought another calm, clear day. We threaded our way back through island passages and along the wave-sculpted shoreline. On our way, otters, seals, and seabirds honoured us with their presence, adding a joyful note to a kayak-camping trip already full of wonderful memories.

We had come to the Gulf Islands to kayak, but wind on our third day dictated otherwise. No problem, we decided to explore Gabriola Island by pedal instead of paddle. Early in the morning, we took the ferry, ready to face not the waves but the steep hills on the island.

As we were bicycling only one day on the island, our first stop was at the information centre. After pointing out some points of interest, the lady suggested us to cycle counter clock wise in order to avoid going up the steepest hills. Without hesitation, we followed her advice!

After a short stop to the Malaspina Galleries Park to see the wave-sculpted rock walls, we took the main road. For a few kilometres we cycled along deep green forest land and farmland. After going down an 18% grade we stopped for lunch, and topped up with sweet blackberries that grew wild on the island.

We continued our journey to Drumberg Provincial Park and Silva Bay to explore the possibility of launching our kayaks in the area. The Flat Top Islands between the two bays looked quite inviting under the blazing sun. Then, in the shade of tall conifers and giant cedars we pedaled on the North Road.

We ended our cycle trip with a stop at a local pub in view of the ferry dock, to rehydrate and dine on curried shrimp. We were very pleased with our cycling day on Gabriola Island and what we had discovered. On our trip back on the ferry, our thoughts turned to the possibility of going around the island not with our bikes but with our kayaks!

Last fall when we went to Healy Pass, the gentle music created by wind in the Glacier Lily’s seed pods enchanted us. This year, we wanted to see how the meadow looks like when it is carpeted with these yellow flowers in bloom.

With this late spring, the trail leading to the meadow was still covered with snow patches. Was it too early this year to witness the metamorphosis of the snow carpeted fields into a spectacular garden? Here and there along the trail, a few timid Glacier Lilies were starting to blossom. We spent some time to admire them as we did not know what to expect farther up. As we climbed, there were more and more snow banks...

Finally, we arrived at the bridge crossing Healy Creek, the entrance to the alpine meadows. To our surprise, the snow was almost all melted, leaving behind a green carpet of plants ready to explode with life. With great enthusiasm, we hiked up to the sunny meadows.

There they were ... millions of Glacier Lilies covering the alpine meadows at Healy Pass, to the joy of all of those who visited the area in the early July.

We went back three more times to Healy Pass during July to witness the metamorphosis of the alpine meadows. From the yellow flowers of the Glacier Lily to the bright red of the Paintbrush and the blue lavender of the Aster, Mother Nature performed her magic again this summer!

With great enthusiasm, our 13 year old guest paddled along the Minnewanka Lake shoreline, startling a flock of squawking seagulls as he approached a point of land. As he lives at sea level we had carefully planned his ten day visit so he could experience the joys of soft adventures in the Rockies. From hiking to kayaking, mountain biking and backcountry camping, everything started at level 101 and moved to a more challenging difficulty.

During his "Rocky Mountain boot camp" we visited the tumultuous water of Johnston canyon, the moraine of Plain of the Six Glaciers, the colourful meadows of Healy Pass and blue emerald lakes nested in the mountains. In our kayaks, we paddled Minnewanka Lake, went up Stewart Canyon and down the Bow River. But the highlight of his trip was zooming down the snowy slope of Healy Pass on an improvised toboggan made from a sit pad and plastic bag. On his fifth run, to his great pleasure, the GPS indicated the astonishing speed of 36 km per hour.

Mountain biking was also a highlight, pedaling along Goat Creek, then more technical trails of roots, rocks, and drops. After his last outing, he came back home very proud of his prowess, and confident that he could tackle more challenging routes. These ten days had passed very quickly as we could see that our young guest was pleased to have discovered the Rockies in our company. In a way, I think he was surprised that he had a hard time keeping up with two "old folks!"

As our kayaks glided slowly on the clear water of Middle Waterton Lake, a loon surfaced just in front of us. From our vantage on the water, we could contemplate the loon without scaring it away. Between dives we could see its black and white checkered back, its emerald green necklace and its deep red eyes. For a few minutes, time had stopped!

During our sojourn in Waterton National Park, we wanted to kayak on Waterton Lakes. As there are often strong winds on the upper lake we decided to start paddling on the calmer waters of the Middle and Lower Lakes.

As we wanted to observe the flora and fauna away from the main trails, we paddled along the South bank of Middle Lake. We soon stopped at the base of rocky slope to admire blue lavender, deep red, bright yellow and pure white flowers organized in a perfect rock garden. Not far from there, on the shore, a bear with her cub were observing us gliding slowly on the water. After observing a bald eagle, two white swans, a flock of mergansers and several shorebirds, we paddled more turbulent water in the river between lakes before ending our trip on the Lower Waterton Lake shore.

During our second outing, we concentrated our exploration to the Maskinonge marsh, at the park entrance. For the first time in our life we saw two Prairie Cranes nesting in the reeds, away from terrestrial predators. For many minutes, we silently observed them, trying to learn more of their life.

At the end of our sojourn, we were pleased to have taken advantage of our kayaks to explore the beauty of Waterton Park inaccessible on foot.

As we crossed a flooded section of the Snowshoe Trail, our pedals hit the water with each turn. Pluck! Pluck! Pluck! Our only option was to keep pedalling or fall into the water!

This was our first mountain biking experience in Waterton. With the late spring we were told that most of the trails in the park were muddy and covered with snow at higher areas. With that information we choose the lower-elevation Snowshoe Trail starting at Red Rock Canyon.

From the map we knew we would be riding below the tree line, with a good chance of making it to our destination. To our satisfaction, the trail was smooth with little elevation gain, with only one obstactle in the first few kilometres -- a grizzly bear strolling along the trail. We waited with a group of hikers until the bear wandered into the forest, looking for a better source of food. After carrying our bikes across two streams and a larger creek, we successfully cycled through about 200 meters of the flooded trail.

We continue riding along the trail above the fast-moving Bauerman Creek. As we gained altitude, we had a good view of the green slopes with mountain sheep grazing peacefully, of the high, sculptured cornices and the snow-capped mountains. After 7 km we wished we could have traded our bike for a pair of snowshoes as the trail gradually disappeared under a meter of snow. This was as far as we would ride today ... we continued on foot, making it a combo trip with a hike to Goat Lake near the Great Divide ridge.

As we pedaled our bicycles across a trestle bridge 100 metres above the canyon floor, we marvelled at the engineering to build these structures on the Myra-Bellevue Canyon almost a hundred years ago.

During our trip to the Okanagan valley, we took a couple of days to cycle along the Kettle Valley Railway. Even with the uncertainty of the weather, we started our bike ride at the lower parking lot on the Myra-Bellevue Canyon trail. From there, we cycled up to the upper parking lot, crossing 18 trestle bridges and two tunnels over 12 km length of that section.

Along the U shaped route built to avoid the canyon, we had an impressive view of the Okanagan valley some 900 metres below and of the snow capped mountains in the distance. On a few occasions we could see an eagle soaring above us, observing its territory from a high vantage viewpoint.

At this time of the year, thousands of clusters of purple flowers hung on the rock walls, and transformed the cliffs into a gigantic rock garden. Vivid yellow arnica, pink fireweed, and white strawberry flowers grew along the trailside, adding to the cornucopia of colours.

At the end of the round-trip, we were pleased to have shared the trail with more than 100 roaming retirees who like us were fascinated by the beauty of the area. Not to forget the two deer and the bear that made the canyon their home!.

This week, we headed to the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia for a few days of kayaking lakes in the area. For our first kayak outing this season, we chose Vaseux Lake, just South of Penticton. Our goal was to visit the bird sanctuary from the water.

There were hundreds of Canada geese and ducks on the water, with their cacophonic voices traveling far and wide. Among them, two white swans were floating serenely. We paddled up the lake to the marsh at the North end of the lake, hoping to see small birds and animals that would be more approachable from the water.

As our kayaks glided silently through the water, we watched painted turtles resting on lilypads, and took great pleasure in listening to the Marsh Wrens perched high on cattails. We floated motionless for several minutes, watching one of them carry reeds to build its nest and stop in between trips to sing loudly. Redwing blackbirds also perched on the cattails, and many other songbirds serenaded us along the way.

Marsh flowers were in bloom, adding to the visual palette, from yellow iris and lily flowers, to small white arrowhead. For sights, sounds, and colours, a marsh in the springtime is a sensory delight!

Not far from Calgary, Alberta is a world away from the big city ... a world of hoodoos, moon-like landscapes, and quiet backroads. It is a land of dinosaur fossils, sandstone sculptures, and 100-year old hotels.

When the spring weather is still cool in the city or mountains, you can often find warm, desert weather in Drumheller. With those thoughts in mind, we headed to the badlands for a few days of bicycling and exploring. We camped in Rosebud, and took in the local dinner theatre ... a wonderful evening of entertainment with "Jake and the Kid" by W.O. Mitchell.

Next morning, we were bicycling from Drumheller to Wayne. After crossing 11 old bridges that crossed a meandering river, we arrived just in time for a bison burger and cold beer in a jam jar. Stepping into the bar was like stepping back in time, with artifacts and photos dating back several decades. We held our intake of "Barley Soup" to one jar, then cycled back to the junction, and headed to the Hoodoos, just south on the main road.

We explored the hoodoos for an hour or so, then headed back for a quiet evening at our campsite. We continued bicycling for the next two days, discovering the old town of Dorothy, and pedalling past a layered landscape of red and grey sandstone, hoodoos and other formations. The few vehicles that travelled the roads were very courteous and gave us lots of room. For a short bicycling getaway, Drumheller is a great destination!

The first participant is ready at the departure line. At the signal he pushes off. Swish! Swish! Working hard, he zooms down the slope. Moments later, he crosses the little pond hoping to win the Annual Slush Cup. Sluuuushhhh!

At spring, the pleasures of gliding on the firm snow of early morning had encouraged us to head to our favourite ski area, Elk Lakes, for a three day trip. We knew that an early start would allow us to reach our destination before the snow became too soft for skiing. Along the way, we saw many tracks of grizzly bears just out from their winter dens. Little streams were awaking and pussy willows were coming out on sunny slopes.

During that ski trip, we had a hidden agenda. We looked for small ponds with melting water over a layer of ice. Without too much trouble we found the perfect spot for our Annual Slush Cup.

The second participant was ready for takeoff. Swish! Swish! Pushing hard she zoomed down the slope. Slush! Donk! Splasshhhh…

Mountain biking on slickrock... we were not sure what that meant until we went to the Canyonlands area of Moab, Utah. I thought that the challenge was to stay balanced on our bikes while riding on slippery rock!

In mid-April, we took the road south with our travel trailer to Moab. Many friends and acquaintances had visited the area and talked highly of this mountain biking mecca. Now it was our turn to discover the pleasure of biking the trails of Bar-M, Monitor, Merrimack and Klondike Bluff.

At the beginning, we were not sure if, at our mature age (but not mature minds!), we had the experience and the techniques to venture on these sandstone areas that can cover many kilometres. To our astonishment, we could feel our tires sticking easily to the sandpaper-like surface. Climbing up, climbing down, bicycling across side-slopes were skills we easily learned.

Every day we became more confident. Bicycling in the shadow of red cliffs, under sandstone arches, and into deep canyons carved by eons of water made for an excellent adventure ... even for intermediate riders such as us!

Imagine a landscape of towering red rock arches, deep canyons with silver ribbons of water, and cactus with brilliant red flowers. This is the Canyonlands in the Moab area of Utah. It is a hiking and mountain biking paradise, and one that we had dreamed of visiting for year. So, we hooked up our little trailer, and drove 2000 miles south, from the land of ice and snow, to a land of hot days and red rock.

The transition from cold weather to dry heat was not as hard to adjust to as we had thought. April in Moab is still temperate, with cooling winds and cool nights. The scenery is spectacular, and it is not yet tourist season, although weekends can be busy in the most popular areas.

We began our tour of the canyonlands in Arches National Park. This is an amazing area of towering spires, impressive arches, and moonscape vistas. A good pair of light hiking boots with grippy soles are a must for exploring this area, as many trails cross exposed sandstone cliffs and climb steep rock. Our favourite trail in this area is Devil's Garden, with fewer people in the remote reaches of the valley.

Another day, and another clear sunrise brought us to Delicate Arch, an impressive arch and sandstone bowl high on the side of a sandstone ridge. For the next few days we roamed the Moab area, searching for the most beautiful arches sculpted by water over millions of years.

With names such as Mesa Arch, Landscape and Navajo, we are not yet tired of seeing and photographing them. And at our feet, the land is alive with flowering plants, cactus in bloom, and small desert creatures. We have enjoyed our first days of discovering the canyonlands on foot, and now it is time to explore the Moab area on our mountain bikes!

Elk Lakes in the southeast corner of British Columbia has become a favourite backcountry ski get-away for us, and our most recent trip offered even more reasons to keep returning. A three hour ski with food, wine, and overnight gear led us to the Elk Lakes shelter. After a gourmet supper, we spent a quiet evening reading by the fireplace in the cozy cabin.

Next morning, we skied up along Elk Creek to Upper Elk Lake to hear the gurgling sound of the small streams and to see the impressive blue icefalls hanging from the mountain’s walls. In the afternoon, we felt like exploring a new area and took the Elkford access road which offered a nice wide ski trail during winter. After a short climb, we came to a high plateau where we had a spectacular view of the Elk River valley.

After a long downhill run, punctuated by a few swift turns, we found ourselves in the wide valley nested in the middle of magnificent mountains. Here and there, trees added a touch of colour to the white carpeted expanse. Farther away, we saw the shadow of a meandering stream calling us to follow its course.

Without any hesitation, we followed the winding waterway back up the valley, as we knew it would eventually lead us to our departure point. Now and then, tracks of otter, marten, and rabbit crossed the valley. Willow bushes were just starting to bud with the longer days of spring, and white mountains were outlined against an azure-blue sky. With a feeling of harmony with nature, we arrived at Elk Lakes hut after a wonderful journey of discovery ... and another reason to return to our favourite backcountry cabin next winter!

For Jacinthe and I, the Egypt Lake area represents something special. During summer, there are wide open alpine meadows covered with a multitude of flowers, and emerald lakes with exotic names nested in the mountains to enchant us. At fall, on a clear day, we enjoy walking on trails, surrounded by golden larches. But what about winter! What does that the area have to offer when the land is covered by snow and when larches have only bare branches?

It is what we went to find out in this beautiful spring day at the end of March. After carefully packing our backpacks we skied along Red Earth Creek trail and then entered a spectacular canyon sculpted by Pharaoh Creek. After several hours of skiing, and under a heavy snowfall, we finally arrived at the rustic Egypt Lake shelter. The shelter was almost completely buried under two metres of snow! But once we got the fire going, it was cozy and warm for the night.

The next day, under a blue sky, we put our skis on to explore the area. Mountains were more rugged and pronounced because of the snow. We skied past small streams with rocks looking like big white marshmallows, coniferous trees heavy with snow, and gentle slopes where we could freely crank some turns. We discovered why Egypt Lake was a winter paradise as well!

But above all these, it was the quietness and the peacefulness of the area that will lure us back again in all seasons.

During winter, the snow covered land is like a book of stories for us to discover. It tells us about the life of animals living in the many areas we visit, either on our cross country skis or our snowshoes. Each animal represents a different character in this story book. Since the beginning of the winter, I have learned to read the animal tracks to find out about their adventures.

This week we went skiing twice on Brewster Creek trail. On each occasion I had the impression of being like a detective looking for clues to unfold the mystery of the printed tracks left by animals in the snow. I discovered that their paths often crisscrossed and sometimes ended suddenly.

On one outing, we saw tracks of a pine marten, that little curious animal who sometimes interrupts its activities to watch us pass by. This time, there was no pine marten to be seen, just fresh tracks in the snow. I could see its tracks, with feet together and one foot slightly above the other. Today, the tracks stopped at the bottom of a tree and reappeared on the other side.

Why did the pine marten climb up the tree? Was it to escape a predator? Was it to surprise a careless squirrel? To better see what was going on in the surrounding? The answer was written in the snow about 15 metres from there. There were two set of tracks: the pine marten's and a snowshoe hare. I could see that the distance from each rabbit jump was increasing and its trail was zigzagging as the animal felt the danger coming closer. Finally, I arrived at the crime scene where the marten, in an Olympian jump caught the rabbit. The murder mystery was solved ... and it was clear who had been the victim.

Have you ever gone down a steep, narrow canyon carrying a backpack weighing more than 15 kg? In tons of fresh snow? That’s what was waiting for us on March 9 as we were heading towards Elk Lakes Hut.

Our plan that morning was to follow a route through the meadow instead of going over Elk Pass. However, ski tracks let by previous skiers fuelled our curiosity. We decided to follow them up to Elkan Creek even if we knew we were going away from our original plan. After all, adventure always wins out over an easy route.

As we entered the canyon, we were astonished by the beauty of the scenery: a creek with trees loaded with snow, rock walls decorated with laces of snow, winter sculptures as only nature can create. The idea of turning back to an easier route escaped our mind quickly. The real pleasure was just beginning!

The next two kilometres were a succession of swift turns, tight passages between trees, sudden drops and avoidance of branch snares. And then, the dead-end!

There was no way to ski any further without taking off our backpack and our skis and throwing them over the 1.5 metre wall of snow covering fallen trees. It took us at least 15 minutes of effort to cross over the obstacle. After a few more zigzags on this treacherous route we left the Elkan Creek and it's wonderful canyon.

Then our mission was to find our way to the Elk Lakes Hut through the forest. This was not too difficult as we had acquired good knowledge of the area during our previous trips. After five hours of hard work (shorcuts always take longer than expected!) and under an heavy snowfall we finally reached our backcountry home for the next two days.

A camping and skiing holiday at Fairmont Hot Springs ... March 1-3, 2011

From my perch on the chair-lift at Fairmont Hot Springs, I am fascinated by the beauty of the surrounding landscape. As we ascend, the mountains slowly appear before me. Nearing the top of the chairlift, I can see in more details the geological formations of the Rockies, from sculptured crevasses to rugged peaks.

For a couple of weeks, we had been waiting for the best time for winter camping at the Fairmont Hot Springs in our small travel trailer. Finally, all the conditions were there to make this journey possible ... mild weather, good road conditions, and fresh snow on the hill. During winter, no need to make a reservation for a camping spot. Just twenty dollars a night gets us a site with power near the hot springs.

After parking our travel trailer and plugging in to warm up our home-away-from-home, we are ready to tackle the ski slope. The ski conditions are superb, and several people mention they haven’t seen this much snow in ten years. As it is Wednesday, there are very few others on the chairlift -- it is like having our private ski hill.

After a full day of long, linked telemark turns down the ski hill, we headed back to the trailer for supper, then to the hot springs as our daily ski ticket included that as well!

We repeat this leisurely routine for three days, rising at a civilized hour for breakfast, heading up the hill to ski for the day, then back to our cozy Trillium trailer for supper, and finally a dip in the hot springs. What a great way to spend three winter days and to enjoy the hospitality of the Fairmont Hot Springs!

February is a month of snow in Canada, and what better way to celebrate than snowshoeing with friends! We headed up to Edmonton to explore the Whitemud creek valley that courses through the area, making our own trails through deep, fluffy snow. We marvelled at the snow-laden landscape, trees heavy with new snow, and delicate branches of wild rose and cranberry draped with white.

Snowshoeing is a Canadian tradition, dating back to the days of bent ash frames and moosehide babiche made by the native people, and passed on to the first Europeans who travelled across Canada during winter. We felt like explorers of early days, even though we were on more modern snowshoes and garbed in Goretex and Pile. The feeling of discovery was the same, following a winding river, and wondering what sights might be around the next bend.

Along the way, we were accompanied by the friendly "chickadee-dee" of small feathered friends, and from within a copse of hardwood trees, we heard the tap-tap-tap of a woodpecker. Tracks of deer, snowshoe hare and smaller creatures meandered across the snowy landscape. Now and then, an open patch of water mirrored the winter scene. After several hours outdoors, it was time to warm up by a fireplace and share our memories of a Canadian winter day outdoors.