An Okanagan Wedding and A Yoho Camping Trip
I was cordially invited to be Erin’s plus one at her cousins wedding in Kelowna. Me, not being a fan of work, opted to take an entire week off. Erin did the same so her and I could make the most of our trip. We arrived in Kelowna on Thursday, around dinner time, after making the drive from Edmonton all at once. We enjoyed dinner with Erin’s parents, who had arrived earlier that week. We then promptly went to bed.
The next day, the wedding was scheduled for 4 pm, so in the morning we hiked up Knox Mountain. We got thoroughly lost on the way to the mountain and ended up parking in a nearby suburb and hiking to, then up the mountain. The way up served as a pleasant reminder that I was out of shape. Once at the top we met a nice couple who was kind enough to take our picture for us.
I Crossed Tongariro Without Issue, Now I Struggle Against Knox Mountain.
After Knox Mountain, I was invited to accompany Erin and her family to a few local wineries for tastings. I came along but didn’t taste much, due to my strong disliking of wine. I did however take the opportunity to grab a few bottles of wine for various family members. Come hunting season I may need the brownie points.
Eventually the time came for the wedding. It was an outdoor venue at the golf course, the bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome, and the ceremony was excellent. Then while the wedding party took photos, I somehow found myself at the bar, drinking gin and tonics for the first time since the Yasawas with the singing Aussies. The dinner was delicious, the speeches were heartfelt, the MC made Erin and I, as well as many others, play some silly games as part of the entertainment. I continued to drink gin and tonics as though there was a competition, and I was going for a landslide victory. Eventually the night wound down and the wedding ended and we all shuffled out, content with the events of the evening.
Not My Usual Attire, Especially On This Blog
We had originally intended to drive to Yoho national park the day after the wedding. We decided, possibly due in part to the bar at the wedding, that we didn’t feel up to making the five hour drive to go camping that day. So we book another night in another hotel and Erin went with her family to a few more wineries. While Erin was doing more tours, I decided to go check out the local museums. As luck would have it. The two museums I wanted to see, The Okanagan Heritage Museum and The Okanagan Military Museum, shared a parking lot. I was impressed by both and highly recommend them. After all that Erin and I spend a little time on the beach and then joined most of the wedding party and family for a small barbecue that evening.
The next day we made the lengthy drive to Yoho. Due to several stops to grab supplies, and some time slowing construction zones, we arrived at our trail head late in the day. We also made a point of stopping at a place called “The Log Barn.” On the way to Kelowna we kept seeing bizarre billboards for the place and when we drove passed we saw a big main building, a few small ones and a lot of strange statues that didn’t appear to have a main theme… So we still had no idea what it was, so we figured we’d better stop in on the way back. After going there and looking around I’m still not entirely sure how to describe it, it is a takeout restaurant/candy shop/gift shop/Mennonite butcher shop/petting zoo/tourist attraction IS the simplest way to put it. Not making sense? OK heres some pictures.
Entrance
Still No Theme
Found My Retirement Home.
The Goats Also Worked A Pulley System To Get Feed Above The Parking Lot.
After thoroughly inspecting the establishment and not making much sense of it, we grabbed some food and headed to Yoho. Our plan was pretty simple, drive to Yoho and hike to our first camp site at Yoho lake, about 4 km in on the first day. The second day make the 11 km hike along the scenic Iceline trail to Little Yoho for our second night. Then on the third and final day make the 10 km hike back to the truck and drive home to Edmonton.
We arrived at the trail head at about 5 PM and packed last minute on the tailgate of my truck. I was rather grumpy at the time because I hate being in a rush, especially for something like back country camping when its getting this close to winter. Luckily Erin’s sunny disposition got us through and onto the trail. The hike was 4 km of what felt like straight up, I sweated and wheezed my way to the top, all the while wondering if maybe a ladder would have been an improvement to the uphill character of the trail. Eventually we made it to the top and set up camp and were able to cook and eat a can of stew just as daytime hid behind the mountains. That night Erin and I slept inside our sleeping bags with a survival rating of -6 Celsius. Keep in mind those ratings are survival ratings and NOT comfort ratings… also they’re usually theoretical. Erin had a sleeping bag liner to help, and had fashioned her buff into a toque for extra warmth, and I had packed a fleece blanket. It hit nearly zero that night and I am prone to tossing and turning, the fleece blanket quickly fell off and I froze. Despite going to bed in fresh dry clothes and being cold all night, when I woke up in the morning I still felt damp and a little miserable, but that’s part of the fun of camping. I got dressed, we made some oatmeal for breakfast, then we packed up and headed out.
Erin Grabbed This Excellent Photo While I Got My Beauty Sleep.
In the morning mist and shade of the trees, the hike was initially a bit chilly. We gained elevation quite quickly and pretty early in our hike we found ourselves just above the treeline.
Early In The Day, At The Treeline.
As the hike progressed we gained even more elevation and found ourselves walking along the rocky slopes with little to no vegetation in the area. The hike was very scenic, we took a lot of breaks for beef jerky and trail mix, and bumped into a surprising amount of hikers considering the time of year.
Just Above The Treeline And Exhausted.
Well Above The Treeline.
We Made Good Use Of The Various Glacial Streams Intersecting The Trail.
The trail was long and scenic, it occasionally jutted out to a higher vantage point, most of which I declined to climb due to my crippling fear of heights. Eventually our trail dipped back below the treeline and along the various switchbacks that lead us to a bridge across a wide, shallow, fast moving, gravel bottomed stream near the Alpine Club’s cabin which was only a few hundred yards from our campsite.
Always Bring A Map.
We found the campsite and I was happy to see we were the only campers there. We set up the tent and made our bed then went off to cook some rice and chicken. I cooked mine first and discovered that the camp stove runs too hot and burns the rice on the bottom of the pot while still leaving the rest of the rice crunchy in the middle. I started to choke it down while Erin cooked hers, she opted to add too much water and make it more of a soup to prevent the burning, she claims it was actually pretty good. I guess looks can be deceiving. After dinner we sat on the river bank and enjoyed a chocolate bar we smuggled into the food bag. The weather looked like it was about to rain so we retired to the tent to chat and play games on Erin’s phone. Just before dark I decided I better go to the food bags and grab a quick granola bar for a snack before bed. I tucked my pajama pants into my socks, so as not to get mud on them, put my boots on and stepped out of the tent, I wasn’t going far so I didn’t bother to put on my glasses. Ill bet I looked good sweat pants tucked into my socks and squinting at everything, good thing we were alone. While I was Grabbing some snack action out of the food bag I saw a blurry looking man walk into the common area of the campsite, so I shouted a hello to him. He then froze on the spot, looked at me, said nothing, then walked away into the bush… If you’re ever back country camping and want to creep out other campers, just do exactly what that guy did. It was so strange I was wondering if my eyes were just so bad that I imagined a person there. After my snack I went back to the tent and grabbed my glasses before heading to the outhouse. On my way too and from the bathroom I looked around and didn’t see any other tents set up… It was the strangest thing, where did that guy come from… or go?
That night Erin traded me the sleeping bag liner for the fleece blanket, and we both fashioned our buffs into toques. It didn’t get quite as cold the second night and I slept substantially better. Unfortunately when we awoke in the morning it was raining quite steadily. We packed up camp in the rain, Erin dawned her rain gear, and we fashioned me some rain gear out of garbage bags because I have been continually neglecting to buy some. We decided to skip breakfast and eat snacks and granola bars on the trail.
Erin’s Boring Rain Gear.
My Awesome Custom Rain Gear, Its Called Fashion. Look It Up.
We made the soggy hike out, all the while I was day dreaming about gin and tonics. The 10 Km hike was mostly downhill and not too rocky so we were able to hike it in just under two hours. We made it back to the truck to discover that in our rush I had left a soft sided cooler in the box of my truck. Some birds were kind enough to empty it for me, but it was up to Erin and I to pick up all the garbage they had spread out. We unloaded our bags into the truck and headed out. We hit the first fast food joint we could find, and on the drive back we stopped at the tourist office and bought a map for the area I plan on hunting in a few weeks… But Ill tell you all about that later.
Eventually we made it home, unpacked our gear and dried out tent out in the garage. I have decided that maybe I should buy some rain gear… maybe.
Posted in Hikingwith 2 comments.
An Ill-conceived Adventure
I only wrote the italicized portion of this post, the rest is done by Erin, I think its great. You can easily skip over my writing and just read hers without confusion or disappointment… I just like to add because its my site and I’m selfish.
A few weeks ago Erin had a few days off and I was going to meet up with her in Jasper. I was told her and a friend would be hiking from Cadomin along the Fiddle River Trail to the Miette Hot springs. I finished work much later than I had intended and arrived at the hot springs at nearly six pm. I was worried that they would have finished the hike long before I arrived and I know how bad Jasper is for cell reception, honestly I consider poor cell reception a good thing when it comes to camping and hiking. When I arrived at the parking lot I quickly found Erin’s car but not Nicole’s truck. I immediately began to panic… what can I say? I’m a high strung fellow. I pulled out my set of keys for Erin’s car and had a look around, it was obvious that she was still on the trail since none of her hiking gear was in the car. For the life of me I couldn’t remember the name of the trail they were taking and I vaguely recall Erin telling me that they MIGHT be leaving from the hot springs instead of hiking to them. I found the guide book in the car and found the few hikes that ended at the hot springs and FiddlePass made the most sense. Its times like these that I really remember the old hiking rule of thumb: have a plan, tell someone your plan, stick to your plan. According to Erin she did those and I just dont listen… that um… sounds about right actually.
After a lot of pacing around and debating options, I left a note in her car explaining that I was hiking forty five minutes into the Fiddle Pass trail head to see if they were there or if someone had seen them. I figured they were exhausted or someone rolled an ankle and needed help with gear, or they had hiked the other direction and someone coming out would have crossed paths with them. After losing and re finding the trail several times I finally found a couple that was carrying more than a camera and a water bottle, if anyone had seen those girls, it was them. I asked if they had seen two girls on the trail at all and they both said “no” and looked at me funny, then I remembered I had just come off night shift and had been awake for over 30 hours at this point. I rephrased the question with more details and a description of the girls. The girl lifted her hand over her mouth in shock or amazement… either way it scared the hell out of me. Then she said “ooohh wait, are you the guy that they were talking about?” not helping me feel better here lady. Then she explained that the girls were headed the other way and had run into some trouble and she was so glad someone was looking for them. She informed me that they had also left the keys to Nicole’s truck in Erin’s car at the start of the trail.
I hiked out and made casual conversation with the couple… and shared some beef jerky, nothing brings people together like beef jerky. I rifled through Erin’s car and found Nicole’s keys, jumped in my truck and possibly set a speed record for the hill down from the hot springs. I was driving when I noticed I had an incoming call from a long complicated number… I’m in no mood for telemarketers but I better answer it anyway. I missed it by seconds, checked my voice mail and it was Nicole explaining what I already knew so I just kept driving right on out of cell service. I arrived to find two soggy women who were overjoyed to see me. Erin then told me her story… and here it is, written by her, complete with a bit of profanity (you’ve been warned):
I lay on the side of the rocky trail, resting on my backpack and closed my eyes. My feet felt as if they were vibrating, raw and soaking wet. Pain shot through my right knee and I wondered how much farther we had to hike. There were only a few hours of daylight left, and I had no idea how much farther we had to go. If I had to guess – less than three hours, but I had no way to know for sure.
I took a moment to take in my surroundings. To my right, evergreen trees sloped downwards, overlooking Whitehorse Creek. Behind me stood the front ranges of the Rocky Mountains. The evening sun was casting a warm glow over everything, and glinting beautifully off the creek below. I breathed in the fresh mountain air and thought to myself “God dammit this is beautiful, and I’m fucking miserable.”
I thought about the last two days that had led me to this moment. I had been looking forward to a trek through the mountains for weeks. I had just finished up my summer classes and was in desperate need of a getaway. Because Tyson’s work schedule is so unpredictable, I had planned to head to Jasper for a 2 day hike with my friend Nicole, followed by a week of solo vacationing. Tyson would join me if he had any time off.
On the recommendation of a friend, we decided to hike from Miette Hot springs to White Horse Creek campground. It’s 37 km one way. Both of us were a bit nervous about the distance (neither of us are expert hikers), but the friend assured us it was “no big deal” so we decided to go for it. We parked Nicole’s truck at our endpoint, about 6km south of Cadomin, and drove my car to Miette to begin our hike. Before we began Tyson sent me a message to say that he would be done work the next day, and would drive out to meet us at the hot springs for a soak after our hike. Deal.
Due to various annoying circumstances and a bit of bad traffic, we began our hike shortly after 1 pm – way later than we had planned. We hiked merrily along, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, happy to be off on our adventure. There were supposed to be a couple of river crossings along the way, and a few times we ended up loosing the trail at the river bank and wondering if we should cross, only to find it pick up again a ways down the bank. Aside from a few nearly errant river crossings, the afternoon passed without incident until it began drizzling. It looked like it might pass quickly, and it was a hot afternoon so neither of us elected to put our rain jackets on. The next thing I knew, the sky was cracking and booming above us, and it was raining so hard that our trail had become a river, flooding over the tops of my hiking boots and soaking my feet.
Nicole and Erin at The Start
We kept trudging along in the rain at a snail’s pace until around 7 pm when our trail stopped dead at the edge of the river. We stood looking at the murky brown water, rushing quickly over the sharp rocks. This looked nothing like the gentle babbling brook we had crossed several times already that day. Surely this wasn’t a crossing. This had to be one of those cases where the trail picks up again just around the corner. We scoured the river bank in search of our trail, and finally admitted that this was our crossing point, and the trail clearly picked up on the other side. The hours of pouring rain had made it fast flowing, and murky brown. “Well,” I said to Nicole, “Should we try and cross it, or should we set up camp right here?”
“There is no way we are crossing that” she replied. I was inclined to agree with her. While I couldn’t possibly get any more wet than I already was, I could easily be pushed over by the rushing water. I probably wouldn’t be carried too far down the river though; there were too many rocks to smash into that would stop me from being washed away. “Still” I thought, “not an appealing option.”
Not an Encouraging Part of The Trail
We sat there on the riverbank in the rain for a while and had a snack, whilst trying to decipher our soggy map and determine where on the trail we were. There had been no signs or mile markers to speak of. With our map completely shredded, we gave up that fools errand and began looking for a place to put our tent.
“The rain has almost stopped”, Nicole said, “and look, the water even looks a bit calmer.” She was right. The water was noticeably less rough and scary. “I wonder how deep it is in the middle there.” I said. If it was less than knee deep, I was sure we could cross without issue, but it was impossible to tell with the thick brown water.
“I’m just gonna go test it out, I’ll be careful.” And with that I found myself knee deep in the river, testing the depth with a big stick before each careful step. The next thing I knew, I was on the other side, guiding Nicole across with the help of the big stick. We had made it!
A few hundred meters beyond the river we came upon an empty campground. Slide Creek. Shit. We were still 7 km away from where we where supposed to spend the night. There was no way were going to make it there, so we decided to spend the night exactly were we were.
As we set up camp, Nicole searched her backpack top to bottom and informed me that she didn’t have her truck keys. You know, the keys that we needed to get into her truck once we were finished the hike. Well shit. What now? Stupid city girls that we are, we came to the conclusion that there would probably be cell reception at the campground where the trail ended, and we decided to hike onwards come morning. We would just give Tyson a call when we got there, and let him know what happened.
Before bed, I was dismayed to find that I had forgotten to wrap my sleeping bag in a plastic garbage bag before I stuffed it into my backpack. It was now soaked. Oh well, at least my clothes were dry. I ended up sleeping in my raincoat, with my legs in a garbage bag and the wet sleeping bag over top. It wasn’t half bad. It was a warm night and I slept like a baby.
The next morning we regretfully put our nice dry feet into our soaking wet boots and hit the trail again. It was a beautiful sunny day, but it was slow going, mostly because we are slow. We also had an extra 7 km to hike that we didn’t manage to cover the day before. Despite having wet feet, and facing the possibility of being stranded upon completion of the hike, I was in a great mood. I love this kind of thing. I really do. We hiked up to Fiddle Pass, which is surrounded by a beautiful alpine meadow. At this point I was really truly enjoying myself. The decent from the pass to Whitehorse Creek campground is about 13 km. After a brief snack break at the top of the pass we began our descent.
Fiddle Pass
After my first few steps downward, I felt my knee twinge. It had given me absolutely no trouble at all up to this point, and now it was twinging with every step. “Shit,” I thought, I hate downhill. I can go uphill all day long, but when it’s time to go down I turn into a wobbly-kneed newborn foal. This was going to take a while.
Roughly five hours later, I found myself lying on the side of the trail in the evening glow, pain radiating in my knee, contemplating the absolute beauty of my surroundings, and finally admitting defeat. I was supposed to be having fun and I wasn’t any more. Just then, Nicole came hobbling around the bend with a look of pure misery on her face. I looked at her knowingly and said “Me too, man. Fuck this shit.” We laughed/cried, and massaged our sore feet while we debated whether or not we would make it before dark. Then, we sucked it up and kept on walking.
About 20 minutes later, I had fallen behind Nicole, limping and shuffling as fast as my knee would allow. I was a woman on a mission and I was gonna finish this damn hike if it killed me. Just then I looked up and saw the strangest sight. Nicole was RUNNING, towards me. “WE MADE IT! OH MY GOD ERIN WE MADE IT!” she squealed.
Last Photo Taken On The Trail
After the initial elation of being finished the hike wore off, we glumly realized that we still had no reception. Shoot. How could we call Tyson? He must have been at Miette waiting for us by now; it was past 8 o’clock already. All we had to do was get a hold of him. Nicole approached some other campers and found that they had a satellite phone. We borrowed it to call Tyson and he didn’t pick up. We left him a message and asked the campers if we could use the phone again in a little while. “Sure,” one said, “but we’re packing up now, not sure how much longer we’ll be here”.
We parked ourselves on a large rock near their campsite and tried not to be creepy as they packed up their gear. We needed to use that phone at lease once more. After a while, one of the campers took pity on us and said, “Hey, you girls look thirsty, do you want a beer?”
“You have beer?” I exclaimed, “Yes, yes, yes, I need a beer right now.” I don’t know if I have ever enjoyed a beer so much.
We called Tyson one more time before they left – straight to voicemail. Could this mean he was nearby and coming to get us? We had no way to know. We were sitting by Nicole’s truck debating if we should set up our tent and scrounge some food from other campers, when I saw a big white chevy coming down the gravel road. “Is that Tyson?” Nicole asked me. “I think it is,” I said. Tyson pulled up beside us, leaned out the window, and asked, “You ladies need a ride?” We were saved! But how in the heck did he get here so fast? If he was at Miette when he got our voicemail, there is no way he could make it here by now.
Tyson explained to us that he had arrived at Miette and noticed that my stuff wasn’t in my car, so we must still be hiking. He thought we were hiking in the other direction, towards Miette (because he doesn’t always LISTEN when I tell him things), and he was starting to get worried, so he decided to hike in from the Miette trailhead to meet us on our way out. He didn’t run into us obviously, but he did run into another couple who we had crossed paths with on the trail that morning. Nicole had told them of our snafu with the car keys, and the other woman relayed this information to Tyson, exclaiming, “Thank goodness someone is looking for those girls!” So, Tyson hiked back to my car, found Nicole’s truck keys in the glove box (really Nicole?), and raced down to Whitehorse creek to rescue us. He was already on his way to get us when we called from the satellite phone, and had missed the call by seconds.
Nicole and I both gave him big bear hugs and gushed appropriately, thanking him for saving us. Parting ways, Nicole and I agreed that after some time had passed, this would make for a good story… but let’s be better prepared next time.
I initially opted to decline explaining how I had figured out what was going on and gotten there so fast, but Nicole figured it out pretty quickly. After I arrived Nicole grabbed her keys and headed home while Erin and I headed back toward Jasper, we decided to just get a hotel for the night instead of setting up camp with wet gear and sore everything, plus it was nearly ten pm when I found them. On the way to the hotel we side tracked to the hot springs so Erin could grab some fresh clothes. On the way down from the hot springs we were flagged down by a family stranded on the side of the road… well, when you’re on a roll, you’re on a roll. The father of the family, Pat was his name I believe, jumped into the small space we could clear in the back seat and we drove him to the end of the road where he could get enough service to call a tow truck. We arrived at the hotel just after midnight and while Erin soaked in the tub I ran downtown to grab a late night burger for myself and some pizza for Erin, because what good is pretending to be a hero if there isn’t pizza and burgers to celebrate? We barely woke up in time for check out, then picked up Erin’s car, and found a nice camp site. We spent the next few days doing shorter relaxed hikes, a bit of biking, and a lot of resting.
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Hiking A Yasawa Island
Lately I’ve been spending all my time at work, but I would still like to post somewhat regularly. As is part of my writing tradition I often complain to Erin about having nothing to write about, then she’ll say “Why don’t you write about that time we _____” Some of my stories aren’t exactly fresh, but usually they’re at least funny.
Erin and I, as part of our Fijian tour, did a trip along the Yasawa Islands. The Yasawas are a chain of islands off the coast of Fiji and many companies have small hotels on the little islands.
When I Say Little I Mean Little!
We got a package that gave us, if I recall correctly, five days on three islands, none of which were quite as small as the one pictured above. Of the three islands I can only remember what happened on two of them, I completely forgot about the first one we were on and so has Erin, we don’t even have pictures from it. The other two islands I don’t remember the name of, instead I just remember the accommodations and activities.
The first of the two, remembered, islands was quite large and seemed to really stick high out of the ocean it had nice private bungalows and terrible food, a common combination in Fiji. On the first day Erin and I kayaked to a very nearby island in two clear plastic kayaks. I was very excited to see all the marine life below me, but was quickly disappointed when I saw the kayaks were far too scratched up to see through. I still enjoyed myself but Erin, who often complains about lacking upper body strength, seemed to have a very hard time kayaking on a windy ocean, I asked if she wanted me to tow her home she replied with “No its fine! Leave me alone” my relationship senses tingled. To my knowledge “its fine” is usually my cue to get as quiet and far away as possible. We next opted to relax and do some reading while lounging in the hammocks… because life is so hard when you’re on vacation, its important to relax. I had long since finished my Capstick book, but I was unwilling to trade it in in the book exchange. Luckily Erin had an old book for me to trade in, the selection was limited and a lot of it was German, but I picked the best of the worst, a book titled “Perfume” and it was certainly…. not something I would read again. The next day we headed to the final island where we would spend the majority of our time, and make the most memories.
We arrived to find we were staying in undoubtedly the nicest accommodations I have ever received. This was the first time during our trip that we stayed in a place that looked like a post card from Fiji. It was a large private bungalow with a small main room at the front and a large bedroom and bathroom at the back. We settled in, grabbed some borderline OK lunch, and read our books at the beach, I finished that terrible book and was thoroughly disappointed. Erin started reading my, now favorite book, “The Last Ivory Hunter.” We then had some dinner and made plans to go on a short guided hike in the morning.
We arrived where they told us to meet the “guide” and found that Erin and I were the only two people who showed up. We paid our guide his fee, about $3 each, and we headed up. As soon as we started walking the guide started talking on his cell phone, this would continue the whole hike. I brought my backpack and Erin and I both wore our hiking gear. Our guide brought his cell phone and machete and climbed this mountain barefoot, it was very impressive. A few minutes into the hike I saw what I think might be the most frightening thing I can think of, off in the distance in a small clearing there was a spider web that had been built horizontally, it was about 6 feet in diameter and what ever was in the middle of it was heavy enough to pull the trees in towards it. I didn’t go investigate, in fact I picked up the pace a little. Just as we came above the tree line we found ourselves walking through some very tall, lush grass, about 10 feet tall. I read a lot of safari books and they always talk about long grass and the dangers of following a wounded animal into it, until this time I had never fully comprehended the lack of visibility and just how tall this grass really was, I just couldn’t picture it in my mind.
After the grass it became much rockier, and elevated. I didn’t really think about all the elevation we gained while walking through the heavily treed areas. Suddenly the trail ended, but the guide kept walking, right across a sharp ridge with a nice steep smooth rock face down each side. Erin, without flinching, walked right behind him and then remembered my dislike of heights and looked back and if I recall she offered some encouraging words. I wasn’t about to quit, but like I always do with heights, I crawled slowly across on all fours while calculating what events and time frame would be required for me to get to the hospital if I fell. At least I knew for sure the guide had cell service. On the other side of this knife edge walk-way was a large natural platform at the top of the island and the official end of our hike. Erin and I took a lot of pictures and she went on and on about how proud she was of me for making it across that rock… I then realized I had to go back over it..
That’s Our Resort At The Bottom
Erin And I Just Climbed A Mountain On A Fijian Island!… Our Guide Had Just Another Normal Day.
Erin and I were taking in the view and talking about how glad we were that we took this trip and various other lovey dovey things when it happened… Possibly the longest and loudest fart either one of us had ever heard! We looked at each other, with eyes wide open, then looked at the guide 20 feet away from us, chuckling on his phone. This hike will forever be known as “the Fijian hike with the farting guide” and we laugh about it all the time.. even years later we still laugh about it.
I crawled across the rocks and we made our way down, all the while trying not to burst into laughter about what happened. We made it without breaking into hysterical laughter like teenage girls, barely, we thanked our guide and returned to our bungalow to shower, laugh, and then grabbed some lunch.
A lot of other interesting things happened on that island, we saw a man climb to the top of a very tall palm tree and cut down coconuts, he went up without any harness or safety gear and those coconuts came down like cannon balls, luckily no one was hurt. On another of the nights we met a nice group of Australians wearing sailor outfits, they seemed intent on perpetuating the stereotype of attractive Australians, they were very successful. Before the night was through we ended up somewhat befriending them, we ate together and got very drunk. I remember at one point they were all singing a drinking song to me while I was chugging a beer, it was great. A few also did a very impressive choreographed dance to a Taylor swift song. I wish I had gotten some contact info for them, Erin and I are planning a trip to Australia and I wouldn’t mind bumping into them again.
The next day I was a rather slow moving unit, on account of my recently discovered enjoyment of gin and tonics. We decided to spend the day reading and recovering by the pool. I took in that awful book I had finished and looked for something to trade it off on. I combed through the collection and the only thing that seemed to stand out to me was an old dime store western. It was titled “Longarm and the frenchmans gold” or something along those lines. I like westerns, so I figured I would give it a shot. I sat beside Erin at the pool and began reading. The first few chapter were slow and poorly written, so I assumed it was a book for young teens, that would explain the rather… ahem, chesty woman, depicted on the cover. I was wrong, very wrong. Around chapter three it turned into a very graphic adult novel. I suddenly felt very embarrassed, like when a sex scene comes on in a movie you’re watching with your parents, kind of embarrassed. I slowly closed the book and set it down, I must have had a strange look of surprise on my face because Erin took one glance at me and asked “Whats wrong?” I casually picked up the book, opened it to the appropriate point, handed it to her, and said “here, read this.” She thought it was hilarious, so did I, but I was annoyed that I had to go try and find another book. We also still laugh about this and occasionally joke that we should have kept that book as a memento for such a funny story. Good literature is hard to come by when you’re travelling I guess… So hopefully when you go out into the world you can still access my site, right?
On this trip I learned the importance of bringing a good book, otherwise you end up with some mighty strange stuff. Also if anyone knows some goofy, attractive Australians who visited the Yasawas while dressed as sailors during 2011, send them my way. Honestly even if they aren’t the people we met, if they meet that criteria I want to be friends with them.
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Saturday Night Lake Loop
A few weeks ago I was fishing for walleye off of my dad’s dock. It was getting late in the evening and I was curious to try out fishing in the dark, I had heard that due to a walleye’s excellent vision they are more of a night predator. I did catch a decent walleye on a bright white rubber fish, but I feel I must test this theory further. The entire time I was absolutely swarmed by mosquitoes… as can be expected at that time of day. It got me thinking of possibly my worst experience with mosquitoes and quite possibly my worst experience in hiking. It was back in 2012 when Erin and I decided to try back country camping, we bought a tent and two small mummy style bags, and headed to Jasper. My brother drove us there as he had a fancy new truck and felt like seeing the sights, he opted not to join us on our hike… in hind sight that was a smart move.
We departed from Edmonton early in the morning with all of our gear and headed directly to the tourist information office in Jasper, that’s usually a good first stop. Erin and I asked about hiking trails and overnight camping while Kyle inquired about the local sights. After much deliberation it was decided that Erin and I would set off that day to do the “Saturday Night Lake Loop” which is considered one of the easiest overnight hikes in the park (I recently found out it also doubles as a mountain bike trail, though I haven’t been back since this trip). While we would hike and camp, Kyle decided he didn’t feel like camping alone, so we suggested the local hostel. I’ve been a fan of hostels since my New Zealand trip, they just sort of force you to interact with people who are generally in a good mood from traveling and sight seeing. We drove to the hostel and took a short tour, my well dressed clean cut brother, in a brand new truck didn’t exactly fit in and I honestly think that played a role in his decision not to stay there. We offered to help him find other lodging but he said he would be fine and dropped us off at the trail head. We planned to call him the next day, toward the end of our hike, so he knew when to pick us up.
We began our hike full of ambition, excitement, wonder, and I was also a bit nervous. We found ourselves on what I think was an old logging road along side a sizable lake.
Our View From The Trail
Toward the end of the well traveled gravel road, just before it turned into a trail we saw an adorable black bear. I was quick to whip out the bear spray (Quick PSA! Always carry bear spray!). Lucky for us, the bear, and my nerves, the bear kept its distance, looked at us, and with little thought or concern walked away and carried on with its life, I like to think it lived happily ever after.
Last Time I Was This Close To A Bear I Got A New Rug, But That’s A Different Story
As the trail went on, I started to realize a few things: we were hiking in a valley, it was spring time, and it was an especially wet spring. The mosquitoes were starting to get more and more frequent. After much casual chatting, swatting, repellent spraying, and scenery enjoyment we side tracked off of the trail up a few switch backs to our campsite.
Made It!
We set up camp in our stall as fast as we could, since the mosquitoes were even worse there. We then went out into the more open dining area, which had fewer of the blood thirsty insects, and began prepping dinner. On the menu we had canned stew heated to perfection on a mini camp stove, with a side of soda crackers. There was one other couple camping there, we exchanged greetings, but other than that they weren’t too chatty.
Mom Always Said It Was Important To Be Able To Cook
After dinner I washed the dishes in a clear mountain stream, which I think is pretty awesome, to me it always feels like a throwback to the pioneer days when I do stuff like that. We then walked and looked out at the small lake. It was pretty, but the shoreline was muddy and the mosquitoes made it hard to stick around.
What I Assume Is Saturday Night Lake
Then we went to bed and attempted to sleep. We had purchased two mummy style bags which could be zipped together, what we had never been told is that while they’re zipped together, if one person moves it creates a vacuum that pulls cold air in between the two people. Calling me a fidgety sleeper is a bit of an understatement. Calling me an unpopular tent partner that night is also an understatement. At this point in our hiking careers we had yet to buy any form of sleep mats, so there we were, cold and uncomfortable on the hard ground.
After dropping Erin and I off at the trail head, Kyle, in a rather James Bond kind of way, walked into one of the higher end hotels Jasper had to offer. He asked the going last minute rate of an empty room then offered them that for the suite and it worked. He hauled his things in, went to a pub for dinner and to watch some TV. He then retired to his suite and soaked in the Jacuzzi tub, he would later remark that his only complaint was that the tub was almost “too hot.” I however think he may have just said that to bug me.
The next morning came and I awoke to a loud hum that resembled electricity travelling through wires. It didn’t take me long to realize it was a swarm of mosquitoes, I was concerned they intended to haul us away, tent and all. We packed up as much as we could inside the tent and got dressed lying down, for fear of exposing ourselves to mosquitoes… and fellow campers. Erin went off to make us some oatmeal for breakfast, and I tore down the tent as fast as I could. We enjoyed breakfast and I decided to use the toiled before we headed off. This would prove to be an unfortunate time to need a washroom. As I approached the toiled the mosquitoes got more frequent and the hum got louder. I saw the toiled and remembered the lady at the tourist center trying to explain to me that they dont have outhouses or porta-pottys they have “green thrones” which well, looks like a throne. Imagine a three or four steps leading up a to a platform with a toiled seat on top. The toiled seat was somewhat enclosed in a semi circle that only ran about half way up my back. It was about as open air as you could get while still technically using a toilet. It was the perfect place for mosquitoes to ambush me… and did they ever. Lets just say I had bites in the tender areas and was really starting to not enjoy the hike.
We set off and the mosquitoes were unbearable, hands down the worst I have ever seen. They were so bad they effected visibility. We walked along beautiful log bridges and passed amazing waterfalls, at top speed to avoid those darn bugs.
One Of The Few Photos That Day
We only stopped at the tops of hills where we could feel a breeze and only for long enough to catch our breath and re apply as much mosquito spray as possible. I remember my shoe coming untied at the bottom of a hill right beside a nice infested swamp, I stopped went down and inhaled no less than four mosquitoes. I was also introduced to the pleasures of a mosquito bite on the edge of my lip, kinda like a bite on the knuckle but worse. We kept walking and swatting and my patience was running low. Finally and embarrassingly… I cracked. I had what Erin and I call a “temper mantrum” I remember throwing off my pack to grab some water and going on a rant along the lines of “THIS BACKPACKING IS HORRIBLE, YOU CAN JUST KEEP THIS TENT AND USE IT WITH YOUR FRIENDS OR WHATEVER, BUT I’M JUST NOT INTERESTED IN DOING IT AGAIN” Erin now finds it funny but at the time I think she was about ready to crack too. I put my pack back on and we continued.
We eventually found our way to higher and windier ground which caused the mosquitoes to disperse and suddenly the trail became much more pleasant. We rounded a corner and in the distance I saw something tan in colour jump into the woods. From where I was standing it appeared high in a tree, I panicked as my mind immediate thought “Cougar!” I grabbed the bear spray and pondered just how good my reflexes actually were. As we walked closer I felt very silly, the trail went up a steep hill and what I had actually seen was a beautiful bull elk jumping from the trail up a small berm. I kept the bear spray out and decided to see how close I could get. I got to withing about 40 yards and snapped some pictures before it eventually got annoyed with me and left.
A Good Size, Especially For So Early In The Year
We were getting near the end of the trail so I pulled out my phone to call Kyle, only to discover that the battery was dead. I must have bumped the power button and turned it on in my pack. Luckily for me, Erin’s phone still worked and I had submitted Kyle’s number to memory. No answer, I tried a few more times, with no luck. We eventually walked out into the parking lot to see Kyle there, he was simply amazed at his timing.
He explained that his phone had met with his temper when it was failing to work. I saw the “smart” phone in the back of his truck and it appeared to be folded in half (he seems to go through a lot of phones). So he ended up calling my phone from a pay phone, which ended up not working since my phone was dead, maybe this phone trouble is a family thing. In the end he just guessed what time we would be there and as luck would have it, he only waited about ten minutes for us to show up.
It was undoubtedly the worst hike I’ve ever been on, based slightly on the poor sleeping conditions and overwhelmingly on the mosquito infestation. I now really enjoy back country camping, and I would even do the Saturday Night Lake Loop again… if it was during a drought.
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YouTube Channel!
Hey, I know I usually do a nice long story on Thursdays but today I was busy… Busy starting a YouTube Channel for the few videos I have and for all the videos to come! Come check out my channel HERE and the latest video HERE don’t forget to like, share, subscribe, and comment.
For those of you who have been reading along to my previous posts you will see the truck from “Unnamed Lakes” mountains from “One Does Not Simply Walk Into Tongariro” scenery from “Fiji Time” and even a bit of “Crypt Lake“. This video as well as a few others I will post, are from a time when the idea of a blog or a YouTube channel were just a day dream that I didn’t take seriously. On this new channel I have also put up the old video I posted called “Pike On The Fly“.
Posted in Fishing, Hiking, Hunting, Travel, Videowith no comments yet.
One Does Not Simply Walk Into Tongariro
All of you who know me are likely getting tired of my New Zealand stories. That said I’m sure a few of my readers (OK maybe two or three) haven’t heard this one yet.
As I have stated earlier, in the spring of 2011 I found myself in New Zealand. Before my trip I had never really done much hiking, in fact the only real hiking I did previously would be more accurately described as a drunken stumble home from the bar… Either way hydration was still a factor. While I was preparing for my trip I was informed of just how important good footwear is. I originally intended to just pack along some slip on skateboarding shoes, since hiking shoes in size 14 are hard to find and a bit on the expensive side. I was luckily persuaded to stop being so cheap and just buy a pair. They proved to come in very handy.
Once I arrived in NZ I was informed that we were going to do the Tongariro Alpine Crossing needless to say I was not exactly excited to do a 20 km hike. I was persuaded when Erin told me that the national park was used as the setting of Mordor in the Lord of the Rings movies. Also I’m not a particularly smart man but, I know better than to say no to a woman when we’re on vacation.
We first went to the town of Taupo, got a hostel and got settled in. It was a nice place, big kitchen, sauna, private room, and central heating. I had to laugh that the worker at the hostel felt the need to explain central heating to two Canadians “hot air come out of these holes in the floor, so don’t cover them” “tell me more about your magic Mr. Wizardman” I though in my head, but I’m Canadian so I just listened patiently, nodded and said “thank you.”
The next morning we jumped on an early morning bus which took us out to the trail head. Our journey began and naturally, as per usual, I had a wicked stomach ache, I was glad to find that there was a washroom at the trail head.
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| Ok so its not 20km but very close |
The first bit of trail resembled the prairies with which I am very familiar, however this was a bit rockier and had an amazing view of the mountains. We reached the edge of the first mountain and before the climb began I spotted another washroom… bonus… no wait that’s a no go on the bonus, they were out of toilet paper. I opted to wait for the next washroom since I like my socks and my bandanna a little too much.
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| View from the top of the first climb |
Of course we did some more uphill climbing until we reached a plateau where the trail separated: one way was to continue to trail to the end, the other was to climb to the top of Mt. Ngauruhoe (also known as Mt. Doom for LOTR fans). Sadly given how long it had taken me and my out of shape body to get to this point, climbing to the top of a nearby mountain didn’t seem feasible. I would be lying if I said I didn’t occasionally lose sleep regretting not being able to see the top of Mt. Doom, maybe someday Ill get another chance. At the plateau there were a lot of people taking a break, grabbing a snack from packs, and taking photographs. Erin and I took a few pictures of ourselves until a kind stranger offered to take a photo for us. He snapped one, looked a it and said “wait let me try again” he did this a few times until he got one he was happy with. I am eternally grateful to this kind stranger because it got me this.
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| I can’t think of a photo I like more |
We then continued along the plateau as it dipped down into a large geological dish as we approached the far side I saw a rather narrow uphill path covered with snow. I noticed something kinda funny, there were a lot of people struggling up the center of the path on the snow that had been trampled into ice and nearly no footprints on the light powder along the edges. As a woman slipped and struggled on the ice I walked past her and politely mentioned that the snow, despite being deeper, would be easier and safer. I felt kinda like a jerk offering tips to a grown woman but I get the impression she wasn’t too familiar with the dynamics of snow. The top of this portion of the trail rewarded us with a beautiful view of most of the trail.
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| Emerald lakes and seemingly endless mountain ranges |
From here the trail continued as a snowy downhill path, I glanced at the snow-challenged hiker, then at Erin and decided to ride down on the snow as though I were tobogganing, at first I tried just sitting and going, and that worked well, but then I realized my backpack had a toboggan feature… the salesman never mentioned that and it sure worked well. Naturally everyone who saw assumed I was crazy, and who am I to say they’re wrong.
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| It was so fun I almost went back up to do it again |
We then continued along another gentle flat portion toward yet another emerald coloured lake. Along the way something in the ground caught my eye, a funny looking white rock that just seemed out of place, naturally I picked it up, to my surprise it was actually a necklace. That’s right folks I found jewellery in Mordor! Its not a ring, but Ill still take it. Here’s a photo of it after I cleaned it off a bit.
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| My precious |
We then found our way to the lake on the far side, me still talking about how cool it is to find a necklace. We opted to stop for some photos and some lunch.
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| This photo took more tries than you would think |
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| Kind looks like a weatherman in front of a green screen |
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| Ham sandwiches taste better at higher altitude (I might make that my new catch phrase) |
Our hike now lead us downhill… about time I say! It lead us along a narrow mountain ledge where we encountered people doing to trek in the opposite direction, I’m told this takes longer and is harder to do. This led to a few slight traffic jams as the trail get a bit narrow at points, but everyone survived so that’s good.
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| Erin’s on the edge! |
The path eventually led us to another set of bathrooms, that were again devoid of toilet paper… I now pack my own everywhere I hike for fear of repeating this event. We continued on our way and eventually the narrow mountain trail turned into what resembled a tropical rain forest… oh wait… is it actually a tropical rain forest in New Zealand? Ill look into that later. Either way there was a lot of vegetation and it was beautiful.
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| Nearly at the end, very encouraging |
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| Here, let me open that for you |
We eventually reached the end of the trail and I was “relieved” to find they had fully stocked washrooms.
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Crypt Lake
In the spring of 2012 Erin and I found our way to Waterton National Park. For me this was my first trip to Waterton and I was very excited. A few weeks before our trip a friend had told me about a hiking trail called Crypt Lake. After some internet searching I became rather excited by the idea of taking a boat across the lake and climbing a mountain to a glacier, what can I say? That sort of thing just appeals to me.
The first night we spent at the only campsite we could get reservation for, I’m the play it safe kinda guy. It was right in the heart of town. It was a nice campsite but I feel that something is lost when you camp inside a town with that many other people. The second day we did a short day hike wherein I was passed by a troop of girl scouts, those little ladies hike like they came down from a higher league. Afterward we tried our luck at a campsite outside of town and sure enough they had some space. It was great it had two things the town campsite did not, a lot of trees and a fire pit… to be enjoyed separately. We bought some firewood, which to me always feels weird, and cooked up some delicious hot dogs and had a solid sleep.
The next morning the plan was to buy tickets to get across the lake and enjoy the Crypt Lake hike. Unfortunately my unruly stomach had other plans, I ended up vomiting violently in the marina parking lot. Since I felt so on top of the world we opted not to try and hike a mountain that day. We drove the truck around a little bit, driving helps settle my stomach. I then texted my friend Jonas, who grew up in southern Alberta and had originally suggested Crypt Lake, and asked if he had any ideas of where we could go for a scenic drive. He promptly suggested we drive “Going-to-the-Sun-Road” in Montana’s Glacier National Park. Without hesitation we headed for the border, luckily we had the foresight to bring our passports. Crossing into the USA was rather easy, a delightful woman asked us some simple questions and we were across. The road itself was scenic with plenty of stop offs for photos and 0.5km “hikes.”
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| A lot of views very similar to this, I highly recommend it |
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| A shot of the landscape and the truck we had to borrow to get there. |
We reached the end of the road, I bought a t-shirt and a soda, and made our way back toward the border. It was dark by the time we arrived at the border. Crossing back into Canada was a touch more challenging, a man, appearing around the age of 30 and in full uniform walked up looked the bright yellow truck up and down and then gazed at the two young people inside at the slow border crossing late at night… Then his questioning began, and keep in mind I am not often known for my memory. “How long have you two been dating?” he asked “4 years” I said to which Erin replied “3” with a look that told me I was an idiot… “Ok, whens her birthday?” “Ummm March 5th…?” “March 4th” she corrected. The questions continued until I was liable to be in enough trouble that letting me go was funnier to him than arresting me. We left and drove back to our campsite the whole way Erin laughing at me and my idiocy.
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| Shameless selfie, at least Erin looks good |
As we made our way up the trees thinned and eventually we were walking a narrow path on the edge of a cliff. At first it was not too bad but it eventually got worse… much worse.
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| Keep in mind how little I enjoy heights |
We had to walk a narrow ledge, climb a ladder, and crawl through a tunnel.
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| I almost fell off a ledge taking this shot |
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| Yea that small ledge in the top right |
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| That’s the tunnel |
The ladder and the tunnel were a lot of “fun” for a guy like me, I swear I saw hawks circling below us, or vultures above me, its hard to tell when you get that much vertigo. After I took a few deep breaths in the tunnel I passed through to the far side to see that there was a 1.5 meter drop and cliff so sharp that someone was kind enough to put in pegs and a cable. Erin naturally walked up the hill without even a thought of using the cable while I considered kicking off my shoes for more to grab it with. I slowly white knuckled my way to the top while Erin was kind enough to take some photos.
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| You can see the drop and the cave (Top right) |
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| I feel this counts and facing my fear of heights |
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| While waiting for me Erin had time for another selfie |
We then had a short, comparatively gentle, hike to the top of the mountain. Once on top we were rewarded with a beautiful view of Crypt lake and the glacier that feeds it. I was surprised by two things: first somehow people had gotten dogs and children to the top, how on earth do you get a black lab past that cliff? Secondly people were fishing in the lake, I assume the lake had been stocked because there is no way fish naturally found their way into the lake, that said I don’t recall seeing anyone catch anything so maybe there are no fish in that lake. I have since searched online and can’t find a definitive answer about the state of fish in the lake. Either way, next time I’m bringing my fishing rod, either I catch something or the myth gets perpetuated so its win win for me.
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| We made it! |
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| A nap is always the best way to celebrate |
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| The lake was larger than I expected |
We circled the lake and started to make our way down. Before attempting the cliff we deviated slightly from the trail and found that the lake drained into a small creek which lead to a rather tall waterfall.
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| A real “edge of the world” feeling |
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| A shot showing the height of the waterfall |
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| So close! |
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| At least I had some time to recover |
We hopped onto the 5 pm and headed to our campsite, had dinner, and promptly fell asleep. I hadn’t slept that well since I hiked Tongariro, but that’s another story for another day.
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Waterton
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| I Always Snap A Photo of The Map In Case It Gets Wrecked Or Lost |
to offer as well as afforded the opportunity to see something new, two baby grouse, and yes they are as cute as you imagine they would be. We arrived at our site, set up camp, and hung our food out of bear reach. It was at this time that I had noticed a family with a rather large tent set up in the communal eating area that also acted as the only access to the nearby lake. I guess even in the woods there’s a chance of running into a family of “those” kind people. I grabbed my fishing gear and headed off toward their “campsite” I was not about to let their intrusive behavior ruin my attempts at fly fishing. A few steps from my tent I looked up and saw a mule deer doe staring at me, less than 15 feet away. It was an amazing sight and feeling to be so close to such an amazing animal, of course I would never be able to get this close to a deer during hunting season. In this instance armed with only a fly rod I felt a little nervous in the knowledge that this deer could easily make me the doe, if you know what I mean. I did my best to keep my composure and take a quick video on my
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| “No hunting in the park, pbbbt!” |
camera before it moved on into the trees. I walked passed an older couple camped near us and mentioned that there was a deer nearby and just generally extended a hello, what can I say? I’m just a friendly guy. The older gentleman immediately spotted my fly fishing gear. It’s hard not to spot a nine foot pole I guess (there’s a joke in there somewhere). We naturally struck up a conversation on the topic in which I mentioned that I was very new to the sport, to which he replied that he was a bit of an old pro and asked to see my flies. He began telling me the names and history of the various flies in my box, I do not know if he was telling me the truth or making it up but it sounded impressive and I couldn’t remember it anyway. He then explained that at this time of evening the fish will come up to eat insects off of the surface. After our lengthy conversation he introduced himself as Van, and then proceeded to point out that there was a beach far away down the shoreline that seemed to have a drop of a few feet out and suggested I try there. I was in no position to doubt or disagree, so Erin and I
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| Monster of the deep/ Sasquatch quality photo |
headed down to the beach.
It was a chilly evening but I still felt it was necessary to wade out, tender parts deep, into the glacial water. Shockingly Erin declined the offer to join me in the water and chose to remain on the shore as a spectator. I quickly learned that, despite not practicing, my fly casting had not much improved. That being said I was still able to land my fly just far enough out for fish to take it. There was a small ripple where my fly was followed by a sudden, short and rapid wriggling of my rod back and forth with an abrupt downward pull. It was a strange fighting sensation I had never felt from a fish before. As I stripped the line the trout flailed and skidded across the surface. He was a monster, the biggest brook trout I had ever caught nearly five inches across… ok so the bar is set rather low when it comes to my fly fishing adventures but on the plus side that just means I get excited easier. This amazing catch was followed by nearly ten more and all it cost me was two flies lost to a log on my back cast, good thing my girlfriend wasn’t there to see me screw up… wait… dang. However all in all I would say it was a great evening of fishing and certainly good practice for my casting skills and running into someone like Van proved to be extremely helpful and may have saved the trip as I would have been a pretty unhappy camper had I not caught anything. That evening my sleep was hindered by the fact that I was soaked to the bone in ice cold water from the waist down.
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| This photo captures why I was willing to stand waist deep in glacier water |
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| Just Before Climbing To The Ridge |
above the tree line over Avion Ridge with an elevation of just over 2400M. I myself am not a fan of heights and today was no exception. We gained elevation slowly through thin scattered trees and eventually broke above the tree line onto a narrow goat path which comprised of smooth hard rocks with loose shale overtop, I was nervous to say the least. Erin opted to take the longer higher path across the top of the ridge while I tried to stick to the lower looking path. Unfortunately shortly after separating, the path I was on got narrower and higher. I’m not sure entirely what happened next but I recall breathing rapidly and shakily taking a drink from my metal water bottle and forcing myself to keep walking. Eventually I made my way to where my path met with Erin’s. She walked causally along in front of my while I sweated and crawled on all fours along the path behind her, I’m sure it was a sight to see.
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| Just “relaxing” on the hillside |
We eventually made it to the end of the ridge and found that we now had to descend a bit of a boulder covered cliff. We eventually meandered our way down to the lake at which point, and it pains me to say this… I was too tired to fish. Instead we opted to have a bit of a nap on a boulder… ever been so tired you slept on a rock? I have. After our nap we headed downhill to make a full loop back to twin lakes. Once we go to the bottom of the largest hill, we realized we had forgotten my sweater at the top. “Someone” had used it as a pillow and forgot to grab it when we left. We had decided that we had traveled too far and were starting to run too low on water to turn back uphill to go get it. I asked a couple passing us on the trail if they could grab it and leave it at the information center in town. Sadly I never did see that shirt again. I hope it has a new home and is doing well. We made the long walk back to camp, if I recall it was about a 12km round trip, and I was relieved to see that the invasive family had left. I assume they moved on to annoy another campsite, they were however kind enough to leave a tangled mess of fishing line on the shore by where they camped. By the time we had arrived back at camp we were nearly out of water so I began boiling water and pouring it into our water bottles, this chore has convinced me to stop being cheap and just buy a water filter for hiking. I then wandered back to my fishing spot for a bit, the ice cold water felt good on my sore feet and knees. Again Erin declined to join me in the glacial pond, women are so strange. I fished and caught more reasonably sized, to me, trout. I fished until I felt the early stages of hypothermia kick in, at which point I came to shore zipped my wet shorts into half wet pants and immediately regretted not going back for my sweater. Erin and I boiled water and added it to dehydrated beef stir fry, which as best I can recall was about the longest 15 minutes of my life. The food was delicious and we headed back to the tent to try and warm up, at about this time the beef stir fry started to upset my fragile stomach, our tent was now cold and rather foul smelling. Somehow we survived the night without Erin kicking me out of the tent for health and safety reasons.
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| Bonus wallpaper picture courtesy of Miss Erin |
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Welcome
Hey! My name is Tyson Sommerville. I’ve created this blog to share my love of the outdoors. I will be posting hunting, fishing, hiking, and travel photos, stories, and some videos for you all to enjoy. Please feel free to comment with suggestions and questions and if you enjoy it share it with your friends, otherwise it’ll just be my mom who follows my blog… Hi Mom!
Posted in Fishing, Hiking, Hunting, Travelwith 2 comments.