Rainy day, key words, and the old red van

I thought I had made a post about rainy/ snowy days and how they seem to take the pressure off. If I did I can’t find it so, at the risk of repeating myself, this is what I’m thinking on this grey and rainy afternoon.

I don’t much like rain if I have to be out in it but when I’m inside cozy and dry with Odie sitting quietly beside me, I don’t mind it. It’s almost like these days give me permission not to accomplish much. Oh we could change the house battery in the van but it’s raining. We could finish spreading the mulch; there’s not that much to do, but it’s raining. I know those of you who live on the coast are probably shaking your heads at the silly Albertan who uses a bit of water as an excuse not to do things. If I lived where there was more rain I might get used to it. Living in a city that averages 333 sunny days a year, it’s easy to wait until the rain has stopped.

I’m enjoying today as a break from the heat. It’s quiet, not as many cars rushing up and down the busy street one block over. The construction projects all around are quiet too. Richard is out so it’s just Odie and me sitting quietly while I type and he sits low on the perch, feet together, and head feathers puffed up. These are all signs of contentment. We may not be best buddies but we both enjoy this companionable silence.

As I was thinking about writing this post I decided to look back to see if I could find the one I thought I wrote about lazy rainy days. For the first time I paid attention to the search box at the upper left of the blog screen. Imagine that! I can search my own posts! Duh. Until now I’ve been pretty lackadaisical about adding key words to my posts because I never know what words to use. Having searched for a post and not been able to find it, I think I may take a bit more time to affix key words so I can find things.

In my search for rain-related posts I came across one I wrote in 2015 about Beano, the red van.  It was fun to reread. I wondered if Beano would make it to 30 years with us. The answer is yes he has. He passed 32 years with us in June. I wondered if we should sell him and get something newer. We’re still having that conversation and the answer for the foreseeable future is still no. 

One of the most surprising things looking back at that post is the mileage. As of ten years ago, just over 200,000. As of today, I think it’s about 242,000. As one of the mechanics said to us once, “You guys should drive your vehicles more.” The rust has gotten a bit worse on his backend and the letters LE have come off.

He has more little quirks than he did a few years ago. The lights in the instrument panel sometimes decide not to go on. Of course, that’s intermittent and nobody can fix it unless it’s misbehaving when he’s in the shop. I have a book light that I keep charged and carry in the front seat so if the lights go out I can still see the dash. The door locks are also a bit finicky. Most of the time they work but sometimes they don't, and I have to lock the doors using the key instead of the push button lock. None of these is a deal breaker when it comes to keeping or getting rid of the van. It still suits us. It’s quirky and fun to drive, and whatever money we throw at it will be much cheaper than buying a new van which might not suit us so well.

Time for new toys, Hooman!

It’s still raining. I’m still not motivated to do much of anything. Maybe it’s time for afternoon tea. Odie is beginning to chatter to me and look over hopefully. He just tossed one of his paper toys on the floor so I think he’s telling me that I need to give him another one. Richard will be home soon and it will be time to feed Odie and clean up all the bits of newspaper he has strewn all over the floor by his cage. Nothing much accomplished today but I’m warm, dry, and content. Oh and, one more blog post closer to catching up to my goal of two a month. Stay tuned.

Riding in granny gear

 I’ve just finished a book called Tough Broad by Caroline Paul. Since it’s a hard-cover book and not an audio book, it took me quite a while to finish it but taking breaks between chapters works. Each chapter is about a different older woman who does adventurous things. All of these women are from mid 50’s to 90 years old and the stuff they are doing is amazing (crazy?) One woman has taken up ‘wing walking’ where you climb into a biplane and then climb out of it and tether yourself to a pole on the wing once it’s high up in the sky. Yikes! Definitely not my idea of fun.

Another woman started flying gyrocopters and the flight with the author ended in a rather exciting landing. If I remember correctly, she had to abort the landing four or five times before they actually made it onto the ground. Another of the women featured in the book base jumps from El Capitan and, because it’s illegal, gets herself arrested and has her gear confiscated.

I read about all of these women, some older than I am, with equal parts admiration and disbelief. Perhaps because I’m not fond of heights it’s the base jumpers, wing walkers and gyrocopter pilots who stand out to me. It’s not so much wondering why they do it as admiring the fact that they have the energy to pry themselves out of their chairs and get to the airfield, or up the mountain.

I used to get up on the weekend having been sleep deprived all week, excited as a kid at Christmas, to go cycling, or hiking, or cross-country skiing, or canoeing. Now I get up lazily, have a cup of tea, look out the window, then have another cup of tea. I know that if I manage to get out the door I will enjoy hiking or cycling. I take another look outside, then look at the forecast and decide it’s going to be too hot, or it might rain, or I really should have gotten up earlier if I wanted to do this today. Then I get annoyed with myself and end up being grumpy for the rest of the day. Does that make sense? No, of course not, and I don’t understand why I don’t just get my butt out there.

Anyway, last night around 8:00 I was looking outside trying to decide whether to get on my bike and do my regular circuit. It rained most of the day and the ‘severe thunderstorm warning’ flashed on and off like a broken traffic light. I checked the sunset time. I had time to go for a ride before it got dark. So, I did the unusual thing, put on my cycling shoes and my helmet and went for a ride. I do love being on my bike which is why it’s so puzzling to me that it takes so much effort to get out the door.

My circuit is about 3 km around the neighbourhood. There’s nothing special about it except that I don’t have to cross any major roads, and there’s hardly any traffic. From our house it’s uphill slightly and on the return there’s a good run downhill with a right hand turn at the bottom. My phone tells me that I gained a total of 77 meters in elevation and that’s over 3 circuits. Whoop de do!

I don’t mind the repetition. I spend the time remembering the many many miles of cycling I’ve done over the years, in the blazing heat, in the rain, and in the days soft with cloud and at just the right temperature, days of climbing mountains one pedal stroke at a time, and days of 100km. Our standard distance on a long ride was 80 km a day and our longest day ever was from Prince George BC to McBride a distance of 214 km.

As I huff my way up the gradual hill and go to shift down I realize that I’m in granny gear,  the lowest gear I have. Really? On a hill like this? Then I decide to give myself a break. At least I’m out here, in the evening, on my bike. At least today I’m doing it and not sitting watching YouTube.

As I turn down the next hill there are some dog walkers ahead of me. One guy who isn’t walking a dog but is with the group, is walking in the middle of the road. I realize that I don’t have a bell so I wait until I’m close enough to be heard and announce, “On your left.” I know that’s a very cyclist thing to say but figure it’s better than, “Get out of the way, you moron!” He jumps at the sound of my voice, moves toward the curb and gives me a sheepish grin as I glide by. At that moment I am a cyclist again. I don’t know if it will be enough to get me back on the bike tomorrow but when I get home I’m pleasantly tired; I have revisited some of the cycling of the past;  I have covered  9 km; and I remember why I love to cycle. No promises, but if I manage to get myself out of the house regularly  there will be a day when I won’t need my granny gear to get up that hill. Stay tuned.

A glimmer

The phrase ‘a glimmer of hope’ is a very familiar one but it was only a while ago that I read/ saw (I’m never sure these days what the medium was) that those small moments of delight or joy are called ‘glimmers.’ I don’t know who coined that term but I like it. It rhymes with shimmers and that’s what it makes me think of, a passing something that catches and reflects the light for a fraction of a second and then is gone. It also brings to mind the idea of a glimpse, again, something perceived but not quite seen in its entirety.

A glimmer for the bees and me

The possibility of raspberries

I’ve long been an advocate for searching for those small moments, mainly because if I don’t consciously look for them it is far too easy to fall into a grumpy world that feels like I’m covered by an itchy grey flannel and everything is irritating. Some days it’s easier than others to find the glimmers but that’s beside the point.

The point is that today I went to renew my drivers license. One of the joys of getting older is that, at a certain point, the government requires a medical to allow you to keep driving. I’m not at that point yet; however  they will only renew my license for one year and then I must show up again with a note from my doctor saying I’m not likely to harm myself or anyone else on the road due to a physical condition.

I wasn’t all that thrilled about the visit to the registry. I was imagining long line-ups and people impatient to get their business done before the long weekend.  So, as I got into the car this morning I gave myself a good talking to about getting a parking place fairly easily, and the process not taking too long. I reminded myself that I have my phone and I can play my favourite word game if the visit turned out to be longer than expected.

As I pulled into the parking lot a car came out of a spot right in front of the registry. Bonus! Three or four people entered the registry ahead of me and there were a few in line ahead of them. As I took my place in line, two of the folks ahead stepped up to the counter. I had just stopped walking when another two groups moved from the line to the counter and then the father and  teenaged son immediately ahead of me moved to a window, the boy giving me a shy smile. I looked to my right just as a young woman wearing a hijab motioned me over.

I explained my errand and she asked my age. When I told her and she frowned and told me that she might only be able to give me a license for a year. I replied that it wasn't a problem because I was expecting it. “Let me just check.” Her accent was charmingly British. I nodded. She punched something into the computer and then looked at the print out. “Oh, good.” she said smiling, and then, “Hmm. I think it’s being naughty.” 

She tried again and then turned to me, her brows knitted. “I’m sorry, it’s only going to allow me to give it to you for one year.” Again I reassured her; she got me to sign in the appropriate places on the form and asked how I wanted to pay. I replied I’d use my credit card. She looked at me again. “Do you happen to have cash? It’s quite a bit cheaper if you use cash.” I don’t usually bother but the thought that she cared enough to save a random stranger a couple of bucks impressed me, so I took out my wallet and gave her cash. She gave me change and motioned me to the chair in front of the camera.

I sat down, she directed me where to look and took one shot. “I think I’ll take another,” she said.  She took two more which seemed to satisfy her. I got up from the chair, wished her a nice day. She returned the wish, smiled and said, “See you next year.”

It was an exchange of a couple of minutes but I drove home in a much better mood than the one in which I left the house. For her I was another customer in a long line of them and she probably won’t remember the interaction beyond tomorrow morning if that long. For me, she is the most recent in a growing list of people who have made one of my days more enjoyable by their presence. 

I know well the feeling of delight when I see a hawk riding the wind, or when I see a bee busy about a flower. Those are reliable glimmers for me. People also can be glimmers and, while I don’t often have the words to tell those people in a moment that they have made a difference to me, I hope that on my good days I can pass that experience on to others. I'm also resolved to write about those moments when they happen so I have something to look back on on my grumpier days. As always, we'll see how long that resolve lasts. Stay tuned.

A window, a nest, and a five-foot slinky

Walking by McLean Pond

You’re probably wondering what the 3 items in the title of this blog have to do with each other. Well let me explain. Last Sunday we set off on our first camping trip in two years. We intended to go last year but when Richard needed surgery we cancelled our reservations. We were determined to get out this year and the first window opened up last Sunday, June15. We want to avoid camping on the weekends if we can. We invited our friends Deb and Steve to come out and have a hotdog lunch with us on Monday.

We arrived around 7:00 pm, checked in and got settled in our campsite. We now need some sort of power to run the CPAP machines so we booked a campsite with a power hookup. That meant that dinner was really easy, leftovers in the microwave. We also use a small electric kettle to boil water for dishes. We turned in and Monday morning woke without the aid of an alarm. I took my lighter quilt thinking it would be fine and I found myself curled up into a ball most of the night unable to get warm. I was just cold enough to wake up and think that I should reach down and get the sweater from the end of the bed but not awake enough to actually do it. By the end of our excursion I was sleeping in two layers of tights, one of the fleece, two layers of merino wool, both with long sleeves, and a quilted vest. Note to self: bring the down quilt next time.

There was a fire ban so when Deb and Stever arrived for hotdogs we had to cook them in a pot rather than over the open fire. We took most of the kitchen stuff out of the van for the winter but there were a few things left on the second shelf. I went looking for something there and when I pulled out the first item I noticed some dark little objects about the size of grains of rice. MOUSE POOP! Oh yuck! I investigated further and saw that the little creature had made a lovely nest of insulation at the back of the second shelf. Well, no point in fussing about it then. It had clearly been there for a while; the inhabitant was no longer in attendance, and another few hours weren’t going to make any difference.

We enjoyed our hotdogs, coleslaw, and a wonderful blueberry pie that Deb provided, for dessert. We had a lovely visit as we always do, complete with required silliness and lots of laughing. When it was time for Deb and Steve to head home we turned our attention to the mouse problem. Richard donned gloves and threw out the nest and remaining bits of insulation. There were several fabric items in the affected area. We tossed a pair of oven mitts and some placemats along with anything else we could live without. Richard swept the area, then vacuumed it using the handheld vac we carry in the van. While I walked to the Campers Centre to get some vinegar, he took everything out of the cupboard and washed it within an inch of its life. I thought vinegar would work as a mild disinfectant.

 

All clean

As luck would have it, the Campers Centre had vinegar and Lysol wipes so I bought both and returned to the van. The cupboards got a good going over with the wipes and we let them thoroughly dry and air out before putting back all the items we had washed. Some we kept out to sterilize in the dishwasher when we got home. I think we’ll request that our pest control guy put a couple of bait boxes in the van before the winter. Maybe it was the fact that we went for two years without driving the van much, or maybe we’ve just been lucky in the past, but this is the first time we’ve had mice in the van. Although it wasn’t the way we intended to spend the day, we felt pretty good about what we accomplished and spent the rest of the day lounging around, doing puzzles, and reading.

Taking turns in the inflatable lounger

The weather was unsettled on Tuesday, it rained and the sun came out and then it rained again. At one point Richard tried to lock the van using his fob and nothing happened. Back to the Campers Centre to see if they had batteries that would fit. I guess he didn’t like the idea of me being able to lock him out, or in. If I locked the door from the outside with my fob and he tried to open it from the inside it would set the alarm off. Oh the power! We actually found batteries that would work.

When we were at McLean Creek in 2020 it was a bit of a game to see whether the Campers Centre had ice cream or not. This time they did so, of course, we had to have some. Richard took off his hoodie and laid it on the counter when paying for the batteries and neither of us noticed that we left without it. Later in the evening when it got chilly we turned the van upside down looking for it. By that point the store was closed but he did have other insulation clothing.

Wednesday when I was closing one of the awning windows in preparation for a walk, the arms that retracted the window came in all right but the glass didn’t. The glass had been stuck on with some sort of adhesive, much like the stuff they use to put mirrors on walls. I wanted a closer look so I lifted up the glass slightly and it came away in my hands. I stood there looking at the window in my hands and Richard hopped into problem solving mode. I really appreciate that! My thought was to find duct tape and tape over the window completely. Richard pointed out that duct tape might take the paint off the van and asked if I had any glue. I rummaged around and found a tube of ‘No More Nails.’ I didn’t think that would work but it was what we had so we decided to give it a try.

 

Attempting window repair

I got some sandpaper and roughed up the aluminum arms where they attached to the adhesive. I also tried to rough up the adhesive. You have to try, right? We got the glass nice and warm in the sun, applied the No More Nails, seated the aluminium arms into the goop and weighted them down with a couple of pieces for firewood. We waited for a couple of hours and then decided to try our luck. Richard managed to get the mechanism put back together and eventually we wrestled the window back onto the tracks. I gently turned the knob to close the window and we waited. The plan was to get it securely closed and then leave it alone until we got back home.

It wasn’t long before we heard a small pop as the window again detached from the arms. Plan B: back to the Campers Centre to get some electrical tape, yellow as it turns out. No, I didn't bring any duct tape with me. Richard did a great job of taping around the edges of the window and the van now sports a lovely yellow accent. Oh, with respect to Richard’s hoodie, they had it behind the counter at the Campers Centre. Good news.

One of the really nice things about camping is how easy it is to walk. One of the days I clocked 10K without really trying. We visited Loop D where we stayed in 2020 and tried to find the site. We couldn’t decide so when we got back to the van I looked it up in the log. We also visited McLean Pond a couple of times and enjoyed watching red winged blackbirds, juncos, and robins. At dusk we were there and saw something very large swimming. We weren’t aware of any Ogopogo-like creatures in East Kananaskis. As it got closer we determined that it was a beaver towing a huge branch complete with foliage. We managed a couple of photos just before the beaver dove at the entrance to its lodge. One morning a couple of horses wandered through the campground. They may have been feral or they may have belonged to the same ranchers who have free range cattle in the area. I was surprised and a bit disconcerted that in the 5 days we were there I only saw one squirrel. We used to be able to count on a steady cacophony of squirrels, and we had to constantly be on guard when we had any food on the picnic table. I don’t know why there are so few squirrels around but I don’t think it can be good.

Lots of dogwood flowers



We saw a few butterflies



The roses were abundant





Horses paid us a visit



Geese and goslings on McLean Pond



Red winged blackbird



Beaver towing his dinner


No camping report from me would be complete without noting the interesting people we met. On Thursday we saw an SUV pulling what I can only describe as a gypsy vardo go by our site. Being naturally nosey, we gave it a few minutes and then walked in the direction we saw it go. We waved at the people who were just getting set up and told them we really liked their trailer. They invited us to have a closer look. Before he retired, the man worked in the oil fields and built it over the course of a summer when he was home on weekends. All of us agreed that the days of sleeping on the ground were over for us. His job had been to design pump systems for the oil industry and his wife noted that before he built the vardo he drew it out in great detail. She confessed she had no idea of how to read the drawings but made appropriately encouraging noises. On either side of the door was a bracket to hold a lantern and there was a little porch that folded down when not in transit. We thanked them for showing us around and planned to go back for another visit after they were completely set up. Unfortunately, we never did get back to see them and I didn’t get any photos of the trailer.

On Thursday evening it was looking like rain again and we decided to pack up the cook tent and stow the awning while it was dry rather than having to deal with soggy fabric in the morning when it was time to leave. Luckily the fire ban was lifted so we were able to have a couple of nice campfires, including one in which we roasted the last 2 hotdogs. We were sitting watching the fire when a young couple from the next site approached and said they had a couple of questions. They wanted to know where we got the van and how much we paid for it. We answered the questions and then had a good chat about the various methods of camping and the pros and cons. What we are learning is that with increasing comfort comes increasing complexity and therefore increasing maintenance. That was to come back to bite us on Friday morning.

Firebuilder



A microfibre towel attatched itself to my pants. That is not a flag so Richard can locate me.

I had a meeting to attend on Friday afternoon so we set an alarm for 8:00. I turned on the furnace to take the chill off, we leisurely made our way through our travelling checklist and headed off to the dump station. There was nobody else there and, although the clouds were threatening, it wasn’t raining. We got out the disposable gloves, flipped up the step to access the release valves for the grey and black water tanks, and took out the fitting that attaches to the end of the sewer hose and clipped it on.

The hose didn’t seem to be coming out as far as it should, so while Richard held the business end, I gave it a tug. It immediately split, turning what had been a hose into a five foot long slinky. I said a couple of bad words. Richard looked at the blue slinky and said, “Hmm.” My thought was to stuff it back in, close everything up, get home and call an RV repair place. After careful consideration Richard figured we could dump the tanks anyway because nobody could do anything to fix it until the tanks were empty. He proposed pulling the hose back so that the slinky part was in the pipe. Then, with the oil change pan that we carry to catch the drips under the point of connection, he would release the valves. It’s important to say here that we only use the toilet in the van for #1. ( No photos of these shenanigans!)

Neither of us could remember which lever was for the grey tank and which was for the black tank. He pulled one. Some of the effluent went through the hose but a lot of it spilled into the pan. He closed the valve and dumped the pan into the waste port which I was holding open. It became apparent by the toilet paper that we had found the black tank. When we finished with that one we emptied the grey tank following the same procedure. I considered it lucky that it wasn’t a scorching hot day and that there was no lineup. We used the dump station water pumps to rinse down things as much as we could, then as I tossed the gloves in the garbage a guy in a trailer pulled up to the spot beside us. I smiled to myself thinking what a show he had just missed.

It took us about 45 minutes to drive home. We unloaded the van just as the rain started. Richard took the van to a glass place on Saturday. They think they can fix the window or install a new one. We have an appointment with Hobo campers who have worked on Vinnie before to replace the sewer hose. I wouldn’t say it was one of our best camping trips ever, but it certainly is a memorable one. No more mouse’s nests, detachable windows, or broken sewer hoses. PLEASE!

One of the paths we took

A brief history of camping according to M&R

Our camping style has changed dramatically over the years. When we were first camping together we tossed a small tent in the car along with our sleeping bags and mats, a few clothes, some food, a stove and an axe. We travelled all over the Yukon using that method and made some great memories in the process.


When we began canoeing our friends travelled in Volkswagen Westfaiia vans and we thought those were the height of luxury. We found a green one in The Auto Trader newspaper and bought it. We didn’t have to set up a tent and the bed was quite soft and comfy compared to a camping mat.  ‘Kermie’ took us on some great trips and served as our second vehicle. There was a problem with that: Kermie had a gas heater which stank and seemed to use more gas than driving did. Because the engine was in the back the cab was pretty chilly and the steering tended to stiffen up in really cold temperatures. When Richard drove to work he dressed up as if he was going to race the Iditarod. Eventually that kind of discomfort and inconvenience takes it’s toll and we sold Kermie to one of my colleagues who planned to put in a new engine and give him a new lease on life.


We didn’t want to go back to tenting, so when we had the chance, we bought Richard’s parents’ camper van. This was another step up. It had a propane furnace and a propane stove. Even though Richard still likes to do most of the cooking outside, we certainly appreciated the furnace particularly on trips in late September and October. This van we called ‘Flopsy’ because the steering was, to put it politely, a little mushy. I didn’t like driving it at all. It had a big V8 engine and we joked that it could pass anything on the road except a gas station. Over the years we had her, Flopsy took us to more  places than any of our other vehicles, from Tofino on the west side of Vancouver Island, to Inuvik NWT, to Gros Morne Park NL. 

It was on our cross Canada trip in 2014 things started to go sideways with Flopsy. We needed a new battery in Regina; one of the side mirrors flew off in a rainstorm somewhere in northern Ontario; and on our way home, the water pump packed it in in a Tlmmy’s parking lot in Arnprior Ontario . Luckily, there was a Dodge dealership right next to the Timmy’s. We got enough fluid to limp the van next door. They ordered a water pump from Toronto, and we spent two nights in a hotel while Flopsy got fixed.

The mechanic suspected that he didn’t get to the bottom of the problem and loaded us up with diluted coolant and instructions to keep the speeds down, check the coolant frequently, and top it up when needed. We decided at that point to boot it for home and sell the van as soon as we could. It didn’t take long before a buyer, who had wanted a camper van ever since he was a kid, came along. He was impressed with what good shape the body was in and he brought a friend who was something of a weekend mechanic to look at the van. We disclosed the fixes we had made to the van and the fact that it was still leaking a little bit and we weren’t sure why. With that we said goodbye to Flopsy.


By this time we had been looking at vans for a while and had our eyes out for a RoadTrek. We talked to a few RoadTrek owners in campgrounds on our way across the country and one man who had owned three of them told us exactly what he thought we should be looking for and approximately how much it should cost. I started scouring ads on Kiji in western Canada. About two weeks after we parted with Flopsy, one came up in Salmon Arm. We phoned the owners and made arrangements to go and have a look at it. It was a 2002 Dodge 190 and it ticked all the boxes. We wanted not only a heater but also a toilet and the RoadTrek had both. That is how we came to own ‘Vinnie’ aka Vincent van Go. (Maybe not original, but the name amuses us.) 

Vinnie has been to Victoria and Kenora with many stops in between. We've camped with him in 5 of the provinces. Vinnie is now getting to the place where he needs quite a bit of work. If we were fifteen years younger, we would consider having a custom camper van built. None of the vans we have owned have had the layout we want and none of the new prebuilt ones do either. There are a lot of whistles and bells that we don't need on the new ones and, with the exception of Kermie, the space hasn't been used as efficiently as it could be. Our thinking is that we can spend quite a bit of money on Vinnie for the cost of a new van, even a used one and, as they say, ‘a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’ As many of you know we tend to change our minds often, so I won't say we will never be looking for a new van. 

Today Vinnie sports a new set of tires, a new awning, and some new interior lighting. He needs a paint job because some of the undercoat is showing through and there is a bit of rust. He is way easier to drive than Flopsy and there are some modifications we can make to the interior space to make it less awkward. All in all, Vinnie makes a pretty good living space for the two of us and we want to spend more time with him either in campgrounds or on the road.

St. John's October 11, 12, 13, 2024

Thursday October 10

was a sea day as we outran a storm heading for the safe harbour of St. John’s. The ship was rockin’ and rollin’ and I took a Gravol because I spent too much time looking down while I was packing. I felt just a little off and thought I’d better play it safe. There was the usual variety of talks to keep us entertained during the day and there was a final kitchen party that night. I didn’t go. I really wanted to but I was tired and didn’t have the energy to enjoy it so I went to bed a bit early.

Salmonier Conservation Area 

Because we landed in St. John’s a day early, the Adventure Canada team  arranged for us to visit the Salmonier Conservation Area and then to have lunch in Brigus, a very picturesque town that is  popular as a backdrop for movies. Denis Minty,  the host on our trip, was instrumental in getting the nature area set up and told us stories of its beginnings. As we made our way around the park it rained and some of the boardwalks were a bit slippery. I was pretty excited to see a gyrfalcon and got some decent photos, albeit through the mesh of its enclosure. I also saw two bald eagles, one mature and the other immature. 

Gyrfalcon

Bald eagles

After the wildlife park the buses took us to Brigus where we had lunch in a community hall. There was a variety of crafts and I picked up a toque for Richard and a pair of mitts for myself. I also got a couple of patches to add to my vest. After lunch we had a chance to wander about the town and admire the brightly coloured houses.

Warm colours of Brigus

Cool colours of Brigus

A duck and fall colours

We followed directions to a tunnel through the rock paid for by Abram Bartlett, part of the Labrador fishery. He often had trouble finding a berth for his ship and when he purchased a bigger ship, he needed a new way to get his catch to market. He discovered  a good anchorage was just on the other side of a granite ridge. He purchased a chunk of land that included part of the ridge and hired John Hoskins, a Cornish miner, to build a tunnel through the ridge high and wide enough that he could easily transport his catch using wheelbarrows and wagons. Some people say that the tunnel was built by a pirate but  https://www.hiddennewfoundland.ca/brigus-tunnel debunks that myth.

Brigus tunnel

Barbara at the end of the tunnel

The rain we had earlier in the day petered out as we made our way back to the ship and we were treated to several rainbows.

Barbara under a rainbow

The rainbow's full arch

In the evening there was a group called “Kitchen Parti” playing at the Wooden Walls Distillery which was only a short walk from the ship. I went and, while I enjoyed the music, I found it too loud even when I took out my hearing aids. You know you're old when...

St. John's harbour at night

Looking back at the ship

Kitchen Parti

I stayed for one set and then went back to the ship to make sure everything was ready for the morning. Our bags had to be outside our cabin at 7:00 a.m. so they could be offloaded and we could put them onto the buses.

Saturday October 12

We were on the first bus of the day and as we pulled out and drove along the street parallel with the Ocean Endeavour we noticed  deck hands painting over “Adventure Canada” in preparation for the ship’s season in the Antarctic. 

Painting over 'Adventure Canada'

We very much appreciated that our room was ready when we got to the hotel and we settled in right away. I went in search of a NL flag patch for my vest and a sticker for my uke case. When I got back Barbara and I went to Janet’s room to say goodbye. We then headed to The Rooms which is a museum and an art gallery.

Lunch at The Rooms

They also have a very nice restaurant where we had lunch. Barbara spent the afternoon in the museum and I wandered the docks enjoying all the different ships.

Odd place to register an east coast ship

There were some pretty strong winds but we didn’t hear anything about flights being cancelled.

Back at the hotel I repacked my duffle then Barbara and I went for dinner in the hotel dining room. We had Caesar salad, fish and chips, and carrot cake. Dinner was unhurried and the restaurant was wonderfully quiet!

Sunday October 13, Thanksgiving Day

We had a nice slow morning. Barbara wrote a letter about the trip while I fussed about packing. I wonder if I’ll ever take a trip where I don’t repack my luggage at least three times before getting it to the airport. This time after I zipped up my duffle, I looked down at my feet in my hiking boots, remembered I'd rather  travel in the crocs, unpacked the crocs, then packed the boots which, of course, needed to go at the bottom of the bag.

We checked out of the room at 11:30, and planned to have lunch before I had to leave for the airport. Turns out that lunch service didn’t start until noon so we had breakfast instead. After breakfast we said our goodbyes and I began the journey home. It was a lovely trip and, on the one hand, I was sorry to see it; on the other I couldn’t wait to get home.

Double rainbow from the tarmac

More of Canada's beauty on the way home

When I came through the security doors in Calgary there was Richard sporting a huge smile. I was home and I'm sure my smile was just as big!

As I finish blogging about the trip months later, I realize how special it was. While travelling with Richard is always my first choice, Barbara and I fell into an easy companionship with enough shared time to keep from being lonely and enough individual time to ensure that we could each follow our own interests.  I came away feeling more confident in my ability to navigate airports, travel, and hike on my own. When you’ve been married for almost 40 years it’s sometimes easy to blur the line between me and us. I’m very grateful for the ‘us’ and, it doesn’t hurt to know that I’m also pretty capable as ‘me.’ Thank you Barbara, for helping to make the trip as good as it could possibly be. May you stand under many more rainbows.

Landing in a Calgary sunset

Last Stops in Labrador, October 8, 9 2024

Tuesday October 8, 2024 Nain Labrador

I’ve been to Nain before and this time was completely different. Last time we had Tom Gordon aboard and he arranged all sorts of musical experiences for us, the Nain choir singing Moravian hymns in Inuktitut, a chance to look at the old hymnals, and the brass band playing from the roof of the church. We saw various crafts and I remember Richard learning to play a game with some of the older kids from the town who were acting as guides.

Brass band Nain, 2015

Richard learns a game 2015

This time we saw more of the town itself. We walked a lot of it guided by Maria whose home is here and we will do the last days of the journey without her. She seems to know just about everyone in town. People stopped their trucks to say hello and if we met anyone on our walk they stopped to talk with her or walked with us a bit before going on their way. We saw the building where the Arctic ice research takes place. It was set up in order to provide a safer environment for the people of Labrador as the climate changes and the ice becomes more unpredictable. I asked Maria when the ice used to be thick enough to travel on and she said that usually it was safe by the end of November. Last year it was the end of January and she mentioned that she liked to go to her cabin for Christmas but that wasn’t possible last year and likely wouldn’t be this year either.

Although she knows many people in town she doesn’t see much of her family and lives alone with her dog. Onboard earlier, she told us her story of a life disrupted by colonial governance and hardship and how she has managed to retain her kind heart in spite of it all. She comes across as quiet and when she speaks she commands respect. I didn’t know what to say to her when the tour was over so I wished her a good winter this winter and many more good winters in the future. She smiled, looked toward the mountains, paused for a moment and said she would remember that.

Captain at the wheel

Back on board we had a tour of the bridge. Our captain, whose name I should have written down, is from India and reading between the lines, he had a tough job to get to the position he is in now. He said he had seen many bridge tours where the captain didn’t really tell you anything and declared that his would be different, and it was! He started in front of a large bank of controls and said, “This all looks pretty complicated, doesn’t it?” We agreed it did. He gestured to all the controls and dials in their grey background and said with a sense of gravitas, “All of these control the windshield wipers.” We laughed. He took us around the bridge clockwise, explaining each lever and piece of technology. The wheel is smaller than the one in a car and it looks quite unassuming, not at all like the huge oak contraptions that we are used to on sailing ships in the movies. It gets the job done and that’s the important thing. When he had finished the tour, which took about an hour and a half, he let us look into his cabin which is only a few steps behind the bridge. Barbara told me later that she saw whales blow when we were on the bridge. I was looking at all the dials, screens, and levers so I missed them.

At the gathering before supper Gary, the ornithologist, told us how he had rescued a eider duck that crash landed on the deck this morning. He said it was none too happy when he picked it up, took it to the rail and gave it a little push, telling it that it would be much happier in the water. I’m not exactly sure what a duck does when it’s not happy but I can imagine all manner of scenarios, none of which are very pleasant for the rescuer. Probably in his years working for The Canadian Wildlife Service Gary has had all manner of encounters with them so for him, it was just another day at the office.


Wednesday October 9, 2024 Indian Harbour Labrador

Indian Harbour

It was a good day at Indian Harbour. I walked with the birders. We didn’t see many birds, just a few specks in the distance. I left the group after a while to do a little wander uphill and take photos. One of the things I’ve really enjoyed about this trip is the chance to walk the hills by myself. I love Richard’s company and I miss him. It’s quite a different experience to be responsible for my own route finding, not that it’s very difficult when there are no trees in the way. It’s also satisfying to arrive at a spot where I can look down on the ship, winded and pleased with myself. I love looking around for interesting colours and textures to photograph.

Colours and Textures

It is so difficult to convey a sense of the place and I admire the professional photographers onboard who manage such beautiful images. Of course, they put in the time and effort, both to practice the skills and to bring the magic of post processing to their images. It’s great that at the end of the trip they share some of their images with us. I remember on some of the first trips we took, 8 or 9 years ago now, there was someone sitting at the back of the lounge with a computer and a hundred plus USB drives shaped like polar bears madly copying information and images for us. Now we get a link in our emails. So much simpler.

Last Labrador Landing

This is our last landing before St. John’s. We are outrunning a storm and the waves are supposed to be 3-4 m in height. I know that’s not huge by nautical standards but it will be enough to get the good old Ocean Endeavour rocking and rolling. I’m thinking back to the first trip we took when the OE had just been refurbished and, unbeknownst to us, the stabilizers weren’t working. We weren’t in big waves that time but we certainly felt the swell. I appreciate stabilizers. I’m debating whether or not to take some gravol. I haven’t taken it in the past and I’ve been fine but you never know.

The silent auction was fun although there wasn't anything there that I felt like bidding on. At supper Janet shared her chocolates and she gave me a book of songs that she bought at the auction. We had a totally hilarious meal. None of us was drinking but we were definitely the rowdy table. Janet cracked us up with the comment that her husband didn’t know why she bothered buying bras when a pair of tube socks would do. (Apologies Janet if you’re reading this and didn’t want it shared but it’s just good of a comment to leave out.) 

Barbara noticed one of the waiters making hats out of napkins and asked him about it. After the waiters had shown us how to make innocuous things like a rose and a boot, one of them asked if we wanted to see the naughty one. Of course we were horrified. NOT! I think at the height of the hilarity we had four waiters and a supervisor all competing for the title of ‘best naughty napkin’ trick. By that point we found almost anything funny and turned our attention to Janet’s dessert which was cheesecake but a very, very, wobbly iteration thereof. It shivered and quivered as the ship rocked and rolled and I ended up taking a video of it. I showed the video to Christine who was at another table and she laughed as hard as we did. It’s good to laugh at something silly until your sides hurt.

The waves are getting more enthusiastic and I need to put a few things away so they don’t go sailing around the cabin in the middle of the night. My camera is already safe in my backpack but my tumbler and water bottle need restraining. The worst seas are supposed to be around 3:00 am and I plan to be soundly sleeping by then.