Poppers

Today's post is dedicated to someone very important to me. He's had a profound influence on my life. Its because of him that I have such a great love for the outdoors. His stories about hitch hiking in his youth inspired me to take risks that I may not have otherwise. Today's post is dedicated to my Dad.

When I was a child, we lived in a very small town in South-Western Manitoba. My brother and I had total freedom to run, play with our friends, bike, or do whatever. My favourite thing to do though was spend time with my Poppers at a creek just outside of town. This is where I fell in love with nature. He would take me on little walks in the woods and show me things I hadn't seen before like black swans, beaver, eagles. We even found a plant fossil once. We spent countless summer days catching minnows and hopping on rocks across the creek. Those moments inspired me to look for more and appreciate the beauty of he world around me.

I remember the first time I saw a porcupine. It was early spring and there was still a bit of snow on the ground. We walked a ways and I stopped under a tree. Dad chuckled and warned me to move. “Why?”, I asked. “Look at the snow”, he replied. I looked down and at my feet were little yellow patches in the snow. “Now look up” he said. There, sitting in the tree, was a chubby blonde porcupine. We had so many precious little experiences like that.

When we were a bit older, we moved to the city. We lost a lot of freedom and I really struggled to adjust. One thing that always made me feel better though were days spent in the park or fishing with my Dad. To this day, he's still my favourite fishing partner. He taught me how to rig a line, hook on bait, and cast. I used to be very finicky about touching fish so he'd always take them off the line for me. Fire coffee was a must on every trip and if it ever rained, he would break out the red-neck gazebo ( a lean to made from a blue tarp).
 
  If that wasn't enough, my Dad also had a lot to do with my love of travel. We would spend hours sitting and talking over hot cups of coffee. He would talk about all the places he'd been and different jobs that he had. Most often he would talk about BC and the mountains there and their unparalleled beauty. Before we came along, my Dad was quite the nomad. He hitch hiked through Western Canada in a time where sticking out your thumb was much more common and unlike me, he did it alone. Once he was even picked up by the great Lanny McDonald.

 What I'm trying to say is that I wouldn't be the person I am now if it weren't for my Dad. I'm sure of that. Even though he worries, he's always supported my little escapades and helped to inspire new ones. Thanks Poppers.

A Very Bohemian Backpacker's Hostel

A little over a month ago I took a trip back to BC. I was going stir crazy in Winnipeg and just needed a break. I quit my job, cashed my check, and bought a Greyhound ticket. The ride was stressful enough having to deal with Fish Lips. When I got to Vancouver not a single hostel had any space. Turns out the last week of August is one of the busiest for travel in the area. I skipped over to Vancouver Island for a few days knowing that even if the hostels were full camping in the city parks is free and legal from sun down to sun up.

After a few days on the Island, I headed back to Vancouver hoping my luck would be better. It wasn't. I walked from hostel to hostel. All were full. All recommended other hostels. Other hostels except one I will not name, the one that I wound up at. Every single desk clerk I talked to said not to go there. But it was that or sleep on the beach. Looking back I would have honestly been better off on the beach. I didn't take their advice and instead headed to said hostel desperate for a bed.

I walked in to the overwhelming smell of smokes and weed. Someone walked by wearing nothing but a towel, winked, and said “Welcome to the Hostel”. Charming. Check in was supposed to be at 11am but the desk clerk was nearly a half hour late. I got my keys, a grungy set of mismatched sheets, and headed up to my room. A double bed for only $35 per night plus a $10 deposit. Toilet paper was an extra dollar. By far the lowest hostel price in Van.

The room seemed actually kind of adorable at first. It was furnished with a four post bamboo bed, a dresser, an old wood table and a small counter with sink and mirror. As I threw down my bag and sat at the table I could hear opera music coming in through the window. I was nice. I sat for a while to catch my breath and enjoy the music and then wandered through Van to meet up with an old friend.

When I came back I decided I would hang out in the kitchen to see if I could meet some people. The kitchen has a lot of art that I assume was made by patrons and a little shrine to Jimmi Hendricks. One corner had instruments like djembes and didgeridoos for guest use. I walked in to a man spinning a large kitchen knife in his fingers and chanting “Rooobeeeerrtooo”. Creepy. I sat down at the dining room table and chatted with a few hostellers. Nearby on the computer, a guy with a massive tray of dope sat rolling giant joints. He and the other fellow got into an argument and I decided it wasn't really my scene.

I mostly stuck to my room after that but even wandering through the halls I noticed odd things. One hallway with a fire escape had been blocked off by planters and there was bedding on the floor. They were renting it out as a room! The top of the staircase was also blocked off as a room. Even a patio had been covered by a tarp and made into a room. They tucked people anywhere and everywhere.

Sleeping that night was not peaceful. There was a party right outside my door but that wasn't really a big deal. It was the creepy crawlies that got me. The place obviously had bedbugs and some other type of beetle was escaping from the wall behind the mirror. That's what I could see. I don't want to think about what I couldn't.

The next day proved to be just as odd as the last. As I sat in my room drinking coffee and listening to the french chansons playing over the PA system, a window in the same courtyard as mine opened. Someone yelled something and then jumped out the window onto the tarp covered patio where someone else was staying. The jumper was obviously on something. He just said he was “High on life” and then ran out of the hostel. The place definitely had some characters.

Needless to say I was glad when I finally checked out. Next time I'll sleep on the beach.

Bike Jam

 Last month I had the pleasure of taking part in a Winnipeg Bike Jam and it was the most magnificent display of bike love I have ever seen.

Bike Jam is a massive night time bike ride that happens once every month or so in the summer. The route is posted the night before or day of the ride and changes every time with route map and itinerary available online. This ride in particular was centred around an all night art event in Winnipeg called “Nuit Blanche”. It was the last and largest ride of the season with riders numbering nearly 1000.

As a first time jammer I wasn't quite sure what to expect. To be honest, I almost didn't go. I started the ride an hour late at the Frame Art Gallery on Ross st. I rolled up just as the pack arrived and they were easy to spot. A few hundred cyclists were clamouring for poles and fence space to lock up. Everyone was smiling and laughing, the lights on their bikes blinking red and white. I could hear music pumping in the gallery parking lot and see swarms of people flooding into the gallery. I met up with friends, grabbed a quick beer and headed for the gallery.

The gallery was absolutely packed! I saw a few interesting abstracts but wasn't overly impressed at first. There were so many people that it was hard to have enough time or a clear view to appreciate anything. Then I saw the Purple Room. Blue and purple lights dimly lit the room as a DJ pumped tunes at the front. At the far end was a large canvas, paint, and brushes for visitors to get creative. I added my own little tag and moved on to two more large canvases where individual artists were painting. One landscape and one abstract.

After watching the artists for a few minutes, I ducked out into the parking lot in search of familiar faces. This is when I really started to understand the enormity of the event. Everywhere I looked there were throngs of cyclist from many different groups. Commuters, polo players, trial bikers, tall bikes, unicycles and so much more! Finally a city where the bike community isn't divided. It was even more impressive to see the group leaving the gallery. Throngs of cyclists mounted their bikes and poured back onto the street.

I tucked into the middle of the pack. Looking over my shoulder were bikes as far as I could see down the street. I wanted to see the whole pack at once so I wove my way to the front where a beardly man was blaring tunes from speakers mounted on a recumbent trike. Two cargo trikes from Natural Cycle provide the music and it is these two bikes that really make the ride. The atmosphere they create is so lively and energetic. Our bustling bunch wove through the Exchange District to Old Market Square. Once again, everyone piled up their bikes. Some people danced by the trikes, others milled about the square cracking cans of brew. I made the mistake of only bringing one beer and had to make a run to the nearest vendor, the Woodbine. It took so long I almost missed the pack as they headed for the next destination.

We rode down Higgins to a park beside the Louise Bridge. The pack moves pretty slow but there are so many people that some run into each other and wipe out. This is where I really started to notice. Volunteers were stopped periodically between the left and right lanes instructing riders to stay to the right but some were speeding up the left lane. A friend of mine collided with one of these volunteers at full speed and bailed hard and separated his shoulder. Seeing him hit the pavement made me regret leaving my helmet at home. Another friend mentioned a girl who clipped his handlebars on the last ride and fell so hard that she got a concussion and had to be taken to the hospital. Pro tip, wear a helmet!


From the park we crossed the Louise Bridge and headed towards the Saint Boniface Basilica via the Whittier Park trails. Taking the trails was nice but served as a terrible bottle neck. I felt bad for the guys on tall bikes having to stop and dismount so often. As we rolled up to the Basilica I couldn't help but feel ecstatic. The Basilica is my favourite building in Winnipeg and has long been a regular hang out of mine.  As part of Nuit Blanche, swings were installed in the empty archways. The sounds of laughter and tolling bells echoed through the yellow glowing courtyard. I danced a bit and then sat with friends in the grass drinking cheap beer and taking in the atmosphere around me.

At this point the riders started to split apart. The Basilica was a high point for me so after a short stop at Old Market square I called it a night and headed home. I will never forget the sight of hundreds upon hundreds of cyclists of all types winding their way through Downtown Winnipeg. Thanks to everyone that made my bike jam experience extra special. 

Want to see a great video from the Bike Jam?  Click here!

Fish Lips

    About a month ago I took a trip back to British Columbia. I decided to travel by Greyhound for the first time in four years after a previous and equally bad experience. Every time I took the bus, there was some nut that caused trouble. This trip turned out to be no better. This trip had fish lips.

    To travel from Winnipeg to Vancouver by Greyhound took 37 very long hours with a stop in Calgary along the way. That's where Fish Lips got on. This middle aged man got on and sat down in 6 different seats before choosing the one beside me. He struck me as odd but didn't say anything so I thought it would be ok. About 5 hours later he decided to ask me about the book I was reading. We chatted for a little while but it was difficult. He was Mandarin and his english wasn't very good. I talked long enough to be polite and then decided to go to sleep. I shut off the light, closed my eyes, and let the highway put me to sleep. What I woke up to was quite a shock.

    I woke up to this man kissing me right on the mouth! This total stranger! Shocked, I yelled, “HEY!”. His reaction? He turned around and tried to pretend he was sleeping! The nerve! I yelled again and said “That is NOT ok”. Just then we pulled into Revelstoke and the moment the bus stopped I told the driver what happened. “Was he at least a good kisser?”, the driver asked trying to calm me down. It didn't work. He asked if I would like to call the police but I declined. I asked simply for them to move him to another seat so I could sleep and they did. Relieved, I put my feet up on the extra seat and went back to sleep. But it didn't last.

    Someone was trying to shimmy onto the extra seat beside me. I felt them moving my feet. I opened my eyes and it was the same guy! Fish lips! I yelled so loud that I woke everyone on the bus. Everyone stared as I yelled in this little man's face but he refused to move. I had to threaten calling the police before he did move and after that I didn't sleep another wink. I have since sworn off the Greyhound. I will not make the same mistake again.

Hitching Part 3

When we got to Regina we had time to kill so we headed to the mall for wifi and coffee. It was here that I first thought about life after the trip. Seaghan asked what I would be doing after and I had no answer. I knew I wanted to travel but was torn between New Zealand and Australia. Seaghan suggested we flip to decide. And so a coin toss decided the next year or two of my life. Australia. After the trip, I would work hard and save. Six months or so later I would leave for Aus.

Our host that evening was a friend from my days at Ocean Island Inn. She was the first person I ever served a mixed drink to and it was her birthday so we finally got to party a bit for the first time on our trip. Another friend from OI was there and we had a great little reunion with far to much Lucky Lager. Regina, the city that rhymes with fun!

The next morning we got a ride to the truck stop and were picked up in barely one minute. This was our last ride. He brought us all the way to Sudbury. It was a tight squeeze though. He had a big black lab and a guitar plus luggage. We each had a pack and I had my mandolin. Whoever sat in the back had to ride with the dog on their lap. Good thing he was well behaved!

That day we made it as far as Winnipeg. My home. It had been 8 months since I'd last been home. The prairies are so drastically different from the coast. Kilometre after kilometre of flat wheat and canola fields. The only trees are planted in thin rows to protect the crops from the wind. There's a lot of cows and the occasional grain elevator. A prairie girl at heart, it was nice to be back in Manitoba <3

We landed at the Forks where we were greeted by friends and family. The Forks is where the Red and Assiniboine meet and it has been a gathering place for thousands of years. The buildings that stand there now are left over from the sites days as a train yard. There are two markets, a museum and a hotel. There's also water buses that give tours and buskers throughout the site.

Our evening there included coffee from Espresso Junction, a long time favourite and a couple of bottles of wine from Fentons Wine Merchants. After dark, we headed down to the waterfront, cracked open our wine and visited. I played my mandolin for the first time on the trip and everyone sang. It was a perfect reunion.

Our time in Winnipeg was short and we were soon off withour new companions to the Trout Forest music festival in Northern Ontario. Ear Falls to be more specific. We had sent an inquiry email about volunteering for the festival but our e-mail was sent late and we hadn't heard anything back. We decided to chance it and go anyways. We arrived a few days early for setup and they were nice enough to take us on. They set us up with a place to camp and fed us whenever we were working. The other volunteers were so friendly and made us feel right at home.

The festival kicked off two days later and it was great! The music was mostly country but some had more rock influence, some folk. There was a nice variety and the performers were very talented. My favorite artist of the weekend was Brock Zeman. I loved his raspy bluesy voice and melodic guitar style. I bought a download card for his album “Welcome Home Ivy Jane”. There were so many talented artists that I wish I could have invested in. Other artists I liked included Petunia, the Travelling Steam Show, and the Weber Bros.

Kokom's Bannock Shack was another festival highlight. From bannock burgers to sugar coated bannock balls, if it tastes good with bannock, they made it! For those of you that don't know, bannock is a delicious fried bread that a lot of Aboriginal people here make. It tastes great and its aweful for you. Seaghan and I ate there three times.

The festival wasn't all sunshine and roses though. Our new companion picked us up in Regina and brought us all the way to Sudbury which I really appreciate. He seemed totally normal, until the first time he drank with us that is. He said a few creepy things but I ignored it. Then when we got to the festival he kept trying to get me alone. One night I went to the bathroom and he followed. He then insisted I come back to camp with him. When I asked why he said he wanted to have a smoke with me. We went back to camp and he forcefully tried to kiss me. I just pushed him away and told him I was in absolutely no way interested. I walked away but he wouldn't leave me alone. We got back to the stage and he tried again so I cuffed him and told him not to come anywhere near me. He avoided me like the plague the next day and didn't so much as put a hair out of line for the rest of the trip. Sometimes as a single female its easy to become intimidated but never let that get the better of you. If you're in a situation you're uncomfortable with, stand your ground or get out.

Towards the end of the festival, I started to come down from the crazy life I had been living in the last few months. I withdrew from other people and didn't do much but write. Our last two days were uneventful and the trip was over before I knew it. Its been three months now since I arrived in Sudbury. I got work as a flagger and labourer on the highway and am saving for my next adventure. When I started the trip, I had no direction and didn't know where I would land up. I took a leap of faith and it paid off. I've never been happier and I'm proud I made it this far. I'll never forget my experiences or the people that got me this far. Thank you to everyone who helped along the way <3

Hitching Part 2

Edmonton was out of the way but I really wanted to stop in. I used to live there and a friend was nice enough to put us up for a couple of days. We were dropped off at Canada's largest shopping centre, West Edmonton Mall. If you've never been its worth going just to see its outrageous size and attractions. These attractions include a skating rink, water park, pirate ship, aquarium, theme park, arcade, movie theatre with fire breathing dragon and more. It also has more than 800 shops and services. I've never been much for shopping though so we grabbed a sandwich and headed for the bus.

The next morning I stopped in at one of Edmonton's hidden gems, Bedrock Supply. Its a massive hobby shop dealing in everything from lapidary equipment and gemstones, to metalsmithing, lampworking, fibre art, and more. It also has a studio available and I was there to make use of their silversmithing equipment. Their studio is so well equipped and organized and studio time is only $10.00/hour. They have a wide variety of tools and resources so the options are endless. I made a simple little silver ring that I have worn every day since.

That evening I gave Seaghan my tour of Edmonton. We left some time after 10:00pm towards downtown and the beautiful Alberta Legislature. In front of the Leg is a large fountain that beautifully reflects the fascade of the building. The water is about knee deep and although signs indicate no swimming security never stops anyone. After wading in the fountain for a while, we walked over to the high level bridge. At night it has the most spectacular view of downtown Edmonton. From there it was off to Whyte Ave for a late night donair at Mike's. My time in Edmonton was short but sweet.

Pro Tip: Edmonton is a great city to cycle in. The river valley has a long section of the Trans Canada Trail that is well maintained and winds along some cute bends and creeks. Edmonton Bicycle Commuters is a community bike shop that rents refurbished bicycles for only $20/day or $50/weekend.

Hitching in Alberta that afternoon was harder than anywhere else on the trip. We took public transit from Whyte Ave to a suburb called Sherwood Park. Public transit stops right near a Flying J truck stop. As we walked towards the highway we were stopped by an RCMP officer. Our hitching sign was clipped to the back of Seaghan's bag so we couldn't very well deny what we were doing. He warned us that the place we were headed for, North Battleford, was a rougher town. He checked our I.D.s, asked where we came from and sent us on our way. Hitching is illegal but there wasn't much he could do about it. Just be honest and straight forward.

We were picked up by a wonderful older couple that took us as far as Vegreville, a Ukrainian town with the world's largest pysanka (Ukrainian Easter Egg). They took us out of their way just to show us the egg. They took pictures for us and even tried to get us another ride. They said they picked us up because we looked like good kids and it could be their kids on the road. They were sweet. They left us in a good spot and another ride took us an hour down the road to the middle of nowhere.

No trees, no houses. Just prairie. And there we sat. It was getting late. If we didn't get picked up soon we would have to camp in the ditch with the vicious mosquitos and no buffer from the sounds of the highway. After an hour and a half, on little car stopped to pick us up. Thank god!

Overjoyed, I ran to the window. I asked them where they were headed. They were headed as far as Regina and could drop us off wherever we liked. I ran back, ecstatic, to grab my pack and give Seaghan the good news. As I went to grab my pack, he says to me, “I don't even care that they're naked”. It took a minute for what just said to register. “What?” I asked. “I don't even care that they're naked” he repeated. I had gone up to the window and talked to them and hadn't even noticed. I was just so relieved that someone wanted to pick us up. They, put on clothes, made room for us in their car and took us all the way to an information pull out just outside Regina. Turns out there's some sort of nudist retreat in rural Alberta and they were just coming back from vacation. The guy driving smoked so much pot. At least twice an hour the whole way. But, they got us there in one piece and that's all that matters.

We rolled into the information pull out just after midnight. There were no trees, no shelter, no bathroom and no trash can. There was litter everywhere. It was a dump. We camped there anyway and our tent blended with the prairie grass very well. When we awoke the next morning, we were in good spirits. We were only 30 minutes from downtown Regina and the weather was great. There was a truck pulled in when we got up. We ate our breakfast and did our thing for a bit. The driver fussed under the truck. As we started to pack, he asked Seaghan if we needed a ride into town. We accepted his ride but were both uncomfortable. The guy seemed sketchy. Almost absent. He spoke low and mumbled a lot. He looked tired and sweaty.

We got in but both sat in the back of the cab. My mandolin case was sat on my lap, pocket open, with my little swiss army knife tucked just inside. I felt uncomfortable but I wasn't alone and we only had to make a 30 minute trip. I tried to relax but just as we pulled out he stopped, he opened the centre console to his right and started fussing with something. I couldn't see what. He put the console back down, started to drive away and proceeded to snort coke. He asked if we would mind and I replied “Are you sure you're going to be ok to drive?”. We probably should have gotten out of the vehicle then but we didn't. He snorted again and drove us to town. I was so glad when he dropped us off. I had become so trusting of people on the trip and that ride served as a harsh reminder that not everyone is stable. Always stay on your guard. Luckily things got easier from there.

Check back tomorrow for Hitching Part 3 which includes our time at the Trout Forest Music Festival!

Hitching East Part 1

Hitching east is the greatest thing I have ever done. Its changed me wholly. Seaghan and I travelled across Western Canada mostly on the generosity of others and people were so nice. I met some of the most beautiful people in Canada. These people made travel so much more accessible to me and showed me it can be easy if you are willing to commit to it.

Our trip started in late afternoon on July 28th in Victoria, BC and mine ended in Sudbury, Ontario two weeks later. We hitched the whole way. We never stayed in hostels. We mostly pirate camped or stayed with friends along the way. We set out from the Ocean Island Inn using public transit and the ferry to get to Vancouver where we were camping in a friends yard. This is where I first found out that Seaghan had no gear. No sleeping bag, no mat, nothing. Just coats to keep warm. He toughed through it though.

I asked my friend for advice on where to get cheap breakfast and how to get out of town. They reccomended a place called Bon's for breakfast and it was so cheap! $3.95 and I was full. As for directions, they recommended we walk to commercial drive and talk to a crust punk. After breakfast, we headed to commercial and Seaghan found a punk right away. He was a young bearded guy with a duffel and ratty clothes. Perfect. We asked directions and he gave us hand written instructions on hitching out of town.

We followed his instructions and stuck out our thumbs for the first time. We also had a sign. I think signs are important. After 20 minutes of waiting and snacking on wild blackberries someone told us we were on the wrong side of the road. Oops! We repositioned ourselves and had our first ride within 5 minutes.

A pair of missionary siblings got us as far as Abbotsford. We were barely out of their car and at an off ramp when we were picked up by a transport. I remember standing on the side of the road. Seaghan got a huge cheshire grin on his face. “This one”, he said like he knew the guy was going to pick us up. We were ecstatic! We had only planned to ride with him to Kamloops and then split off to the north but we wound up staying with him right until the Icefields Parkway in southern Alberta.

Riding with the trucker was great. He had been picking up hitch hikers for around 30 years and had a surplus of stories. Late that night, as we rolled through the mountains near Revelstoke, he even told a storey about the night he swears he and two hitch hikers saw Sasquatch. We made it as far as Golden, BC that night and camped on a patch of grass behind a gas station. Many long haul truckers park there over night so we had no troubles camping there.

I woke up late the next morning and made the mistake of hitting the road with no food. When we were dropped off at the Icefields Parkway early that morning, we had nothing. The road was mostly frequented by tourists who don't pick up hitch hikers. When we were picked up, it was by a hiker in a cool car who took us as far as the Crows Foot Glacier. This was a terrible place to hitch from because all of the tourists pull in to take pictures and then avoid you pulling out. So many tourists took pictures of us. It felt so strange. None of them picked us up.

Eventually we were picked up by a coal miner coming back from a music festival. BC has lots of great music festivals that I'm ashamed to say I never took the time to enjoy. Anyway, he took us as far as Jasper through the prettiest stretch of mountains I have ever seen in my life. The Rocky Mountain range covered in glaciers and snow caps is absolutely breathtaking.

Pro tip: Do not fuel up along the Icefields Parkway. Our ride had to gas up at Saskatchewan crossing and paid $1.90/litre compared to $1.30 everywhere else. Food was also overpriced, we hadn't eaten yet that day and were going to grab hot dogs but they were a whopping $7.00 a piece.

We made it to Jasper by early afternoon and had some wicked poutine with our ride before he left. We offered to pay for his food but he declined as did every ride we tried buying food for but I always felt it was important to express how grateful we were. If it weren't for people like him, we never would have made it. I can't stress enough how thankful I am for every person who helped us along the way <3

We paid for camping that night. $30.00. That's the only time we paid to sleep somewhere and it was worth it. I love Jasper. Its the first place that I ever visited the Canadian Rockies and every time I visit I'm amazed at how quiet and serene it is. Jasper is not overly commercial for a tourist town. Its small. They don't allow large franchises so there are no Wal Marts or the like to take away from the natural beauty of the place.

We stayed at Whistler's Campground where $30.00 got us our own site and as much wood as we wanted. The park was very well maintained and park staff were friendly and knowledgeable. We were in a designated hiker/biker site and almost every camp had someone with an instrument. My only complaint about the site was that the fire pits were so tiny and the wood only fit in one day. It didn't make the greatest fire to cook by.

A friend of ours hitched to Jasper on the same day and stopped in at our camp. He's very gifted with food and helped us cook. The guys climbed a tree and well after dark we called it a night. We met up the next morning for a relaxed breakfast in the visitor centre lawn and then checked the thrift stores for cheap cookware. Our friend walked us along the dirt path to the highway, pointing out fresh herbs along the trail. Lavender, sage, and one for tea that I can't remember. It all smelled divine and I really wish I had picked some to take with. After a fond farewell, we stuck out our thumbs once again and were picked up within 10 minutes by a speedy Algerian. He got us to Edmonton in no time.

Check back tomorrow for Hitching East Part 2 which includes our most interesting and our worst rides!