Category: moosling

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bikes canada general hiking moosling trip reports

Pigeon Mountain (lacking in pigeons since 1858)

Pigeon Mountain has been hovering on our radar for a long time – it sits just next to Skogan Pass, so we’ve travelled past it plenty of times, but have never quite made the turn up towards the summit. It was a warm day for November, and without too much snow on the ground, we thought we may as well use this trip as a good shoulder season excursion.

After cheating and driving to the trailhead, we unloaded the bikes and Chariot, and started the slog up alongside the power-lines. There were a couple of other random hikers about, but the carpark had been overwhelmingly full of hunters. We passed a few on the trail; bow hunters who had bagged a bighorn sheep.

We managed to cover 3.5 km or so before the snow on the trail started to make traction impossible, so gave in and stashed the wheels in the trees.

Above the treeline and trudging uphill, with an old-school toddler carrying device – shoving them in the space between your back and the backpack

Another kilometre or so and we reached the turnoff, taking us up single trail, climbing a spur until we were spat out above the treeline and into the wind. From there on the trail wasn’t so well defined. There was a fantastic choose-your-own-adventure set of trails to follow through the snow though…

Follow the sheep trail. Turn to page 63. You have fallen into a wind drift and can’t get out. You starve to death before summer comes.
Follow the lower human trail. Turn to page 48. The trail disappears over the edge of a cliff. You fall to your death.
Set your own tracks across wind slab. Turn to page 38. The wind slab holds for the first twenty metres, but suddenly gives way, and you are trapped in postholing hell.

Lunch!

We managed to make our way through the perilous choose-your-own-adventure section, and reached the ridge, where the wind had kept the snow pretty thin on the ground. Surprisingly, the wind swept ridge was also rather windy.

Onwards and upwards

We were not alone – hoards of bighorn sheep around. The whole area will be under seasonal closure from December 1st, as it’s a breeding ground for the bighorn sheep.

It was easy walking to the summit and after snacks and photos at the summit cairn, we shook our fist at the sun, which had just disappeared behind a bank of clouds that had been hugging the mountains to the west of us, and then we scarpered back down the mountain.

Thanks to the bike-stashing effort, we made it back to the car a full five minutes before sunset (with the added benefit that we weren’t driven insane by having to walk down a road next to a power-line for a full five kilometres).

Oh, and as an added bonus, here is a link to the song we both had stuck in our head all day long.

Distance: 16.5km
Elevation gain: 960m
Summit altitude: 2394m

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canada general moosling

A short trip to Invermere

We’d hatched a cunning plan to make the most of the lingering not-winter in Invermere, and take our mountain bikes out for an adventure on dirt one more time before we had to switch to studded tyres and snow riding for the next six months. Unfortunately, my lingering cold decided to transform into a full-blown death-lurgy. Hence I spent the weekend huddled and miserable, while the boys got out enjoying the trails, and then hot springing it (at Lussier Hot Springs, which we visited when we first got to Canada back in 2007).

My voice finally returned a week later.

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canada general moosling snow

The first backcountry-ish tour of the season

So, touring out from Sunshine Village doesn’t feel very hardcore, but when the season hasn’t started yet, and there’s powder everywhere (even if it does have rocks lurking underneath), well, it’s not such a bad option. There are even sleds zooming around at random to avoid, to increase the difficulty factor a little.

It certainly wasn’t the best of weather, as the sky closed in, and we were surrounded by nothing but white, with more white appearing from somewhere above. Our hopes of a lovely bluebird day were dashed against the rocks of despair (not unlike the base of our skis once we started heading back downhill – although no, it wasn’t actually that bad at all).

But we made it out a Rock Isle Lake. It always feels like a pointless activity, skiing to a lake in the winter. You can’t see the lake, all you can see is a large flat area. Then if you’re really lucky, you can try to ski across it, fall in and drown. I’m firmly anti lake-in-winter.

After eating lunch we quickly left the lake, and headed back to the village. Slowly and patiently, but with large grins, as everything was soft and deep and fluffy. The Moosling slept in the Chariot for the whole expedition; apparently there’s still nothing quite so soporific as being snuggled in a warm Chariot while you’re gently joggled back and forth to the swoosh of runners on snow.

I’m still not ready for the onslaught of winter, stealing all of my nice dry trails and mountains, but a day like today makes the whole thing seem a little more palatable.

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canada general moosling snow

Frozen Thunder is here! The first ski of the season.

The first ski of the season, and the Moosling’s first ski as a two year old, with considerably better control of his legs than before.

We took it in turn to do a couple of laps each, while the other held Moosling hands, and helped him skitter up and down hills. He was very keen to run down the hills, as he hasn’t yet got the hang of the fact that all he has to do is balance, and the skis will whoosh him down the hill of their own accord.

At any rate, he seems to like this “keeing” thing.

(Oh, and Frozen Thunder is the little loop of trail that the Nordic Centre puts down in October, using some snow they saved up from the year before – no, really, they just make a big pile of snow and cover it in sawdust and things, and then dig it out to use 7 months or so later)

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bikes canada general moosling trip reports

Out along the Cascade Fire Trail

An overnight bike trip out along the Cascade Fire Trail

Past the Cascade River, and out towards the Warden’s Cabin

Dropping down the side trail to the Stoney Creek Warden’s Cabin – Laura towing her Bob trailer

Suddenly we’re back in the 1940s… or perhaps a post-apocalyptic world

Studying the map.

Warden’s Cabin at night

Playing hide-and-seek in the cupboard (notice the feet peeping out)

The biking crew

Our loon – he was by the side of the trail, injured, and making loon noises. We called Parks, but they were saying there’s probably not much hope for him, as if they take him and look after him, he’ll probably die, and if he’s put into a lake that belongs to another loon, he’ll be killed. Poor loon.