Category Archives: Outdoor Adventure

Moose on the loose at Island Lake

With nature, timing is everything. Some days you can hike 20 kilometres in the backcountry and see nary a bird; other times you hit the wildlife jackpot with minimum effort. Such was our hot July afternoon at Island Lake.

A mother moose grazes while her calf eyes us up at Island Lake near Fernie, B.C.

A mother moose grazes while her calf eyes us up at Island Lake near Fernie, B.C.

We drove from Fernie up to Island Lake Lodge to rent a canoe ($10 for one hour) and paddle around the lake. The lake is named for the small island in its centre that makes a fun target to navigate around. After situating Bennett and Avery inside the canoe, with instructions to stay as still as possible in spite of the crazy swarms of mayflies (in other words, no tipping!), Blake and I dipped our oars toward the island.

The mayflies were swarming us in the canoe. Good thing they don't bite!

The mayflies were swarming us in the canoe. Good thing they don’t bite!

I spotted movement along a shaded bank. As we glided closer I saw it was a mama moose and her baby, which appeared to be pretty darn new. The pair were busy munching on leaves along the water’s edge. Mama raised her head and stared us down (Blake stopped paddling; I was busy taking endless photos), then hunger drove her back to her afternoon snack. Baby tried unsuccessfully to nurse several times, but was repeatedly dissuaded by a guttural moan from its mother, who clearly needed sustenance after birthing and nursing her calf. We watched them in awe for 10 minutes or more, marvelling at the tiny, fuzzy baby and its skinny, gangly mama. As we paddled away the small family headed inland on the island.

Mama and baby moose pause to glance at our approaching canoe.

Mama and baby moose pause to glance at our approaching canoe.

We continued our trip around the lake, chasing ducklings (much to Bennett’s delight) and letting Avery try to catch tadpoles. A final circle of the island showed no signs of the wildlife sheltered there.

Canoeing at Island LAke is a great way to spend an afternoon.

Canoeing at Island Lake is a great way to spend an afternoon.

Later, over cocktails on the Bear Lodge patio, Island Lake Lodge marketing guy Mike McPhee told us that a mother moose swims out to the island every spring to birth a calf. She shelters it there for awhile, then they move back to the mainland for the rest of the summer. Smart mama — what a beautiful place to raise a babe.

Ancient Cottonwood Trail in Fernie

We discovered a short interpretive hiking trail just 16 kilometres southeast of Fernie, that boasts the oldest black cottonwood forest on the planet. Eager to see these behemoths up close, we drove from Fernie and turned off on Morrissey Road to hike the Ancient Cottonwood Trail.

Bennett and Avery pose at the trailhead for the Ancient Cottonwood Trail near Fernie, B.C.

Bennett and Avery pose at the trailhead for the Ancient Cottonwood Trail near Fernie, B.C.

The 1.5 km loop trail winds through a riparian habitat dense with ferns, cedars, spruce and the towering cottonwoods, some of which have grown to heights of eight storeys (88 feet/27 metres). The thirsty giants suck up hundreds of litres of water a day and grow up to two metres a year. The most ancient in this grove are about 400 years old! Avery measured it with her arm span and estimated its circumference to be about nine metres.

Blake, Bennett and Avery pose in front of the grove's oldest tree, estimated to be about 400 years old. Bennett is so small compared to the tree -- he fits comfortably in a trunk nook.

The gang poses in front of the grove’s oldest tree, estimated to be about 400. Bennett is so small compared to the tree — he fits comfortably in a trunk nook.

We learned you can tell a cottonwood apart from other trees by its nubby, “groovy” trunk. What’s also interesting is these trees are all trunk — there’s just the smallest canopy at the top.

This cottonwood tree is so old moss is growing on it.

This cottonwood tree is so old moss is growing inside the trunk’s grooves.

Look up, waaaay up! These black cottonwoods grow to heights of 88 feet (27 metres), as tall as an eight-storey building.

Look up, waaaay up! These black cottonwoods grow to heights of 88 feet (27 metres), as tall as an eight-storey building.

In all it was a nice, if short, hike. We liked the trees, the ferns and throwing rocks into the Elk River afterward. Fernie, you continue to surprise us, and that’s a good thing!

Ferns in Fernie, B.C.

 

Horsing around in Cochrane

In my head I called my horse The Black Stallion, even though his name was Sisco and he was a gelding. Small details. He gamely followed the portly horse in front of him, who kept bending down to snatch mouthfuls of grass. Way up ahead in the line of mounted Girl Guides, Avery sat confidently astride Princess, beaming with pride when a ranch volunteer told her the pony horse was one of the most difficult to control.

Avery astride Princess at Griffin Valley Ranch.

Avery astride Princess at Griffin Valley Ranch.

And so we hit the trail at Griffin Valley Ranch near Cochrane, Alta. during Avery’s final Girl Guide outing from a year that had her troop snow shoeing, knitting, roller skating, playing laser tag, camping in Dinosaur Provincial Park and selling those lesser sandwich cookies. In all, a great year, ending with what all the girls agreed was the best excursion yet: horseback riding.

Girl Guides and some moms taken in the scenery on a sunny trail ride near Cochrane, Alta.

Girl Guides and some moms take in the scenery on a sunny trail ride near Cochrane.

The ranch is 4,500 acres of scenic meadows, rolling hills and forests. It’s also one of the only places in Canada where you can do unguided trail rides — that is, hire a horse and trot around the ranch on your own if you’re a decent rider. That was always my dream as an equine-obsessed child and, in fact, my home in Evergreen, Colo. had a stable that actually let kids gallop around trails on their own. My mom used to drop me off at Joe’s Stables with my friend Deirdre when we were 11 or 12. We’d run our horses (no helmets) until they lathered and then let them cool down by drinking giardia water from Cub Creek. Ah, the good old days.

Me astride The Black Stallion (a.k.a. Sisco the grumpy gelding).

Me astride The Black Stallion (a.k.a. Sisco the grumpy gelding).

I’m sure Avery would have loved to have galloped or even trotted, a la Costa Rica, but since many of the Girl Guides had never before been on a horse, our guided group stuck with a plodding, single-file walk for the duration of the one-hour ride. Also, about four volunteer riders (all teenage girls, naturally) escorted us and kept Sisco from kicking the newer, younger horses.

It was a great day that not only transported me back to the heady summer days of my free-range horseback-riding youth, but one that nurtured every Girl Guide’s dream of horseback riding A LOT more than once a year. In fact, it was the kind of day that’s a gateway to falling down the rabbit hole of horse lessons and, eventually, horse ownership. Because on the car ride home Avery and her two friends casually mentioned that Griffin Valley Ranch runs horse camps all summer. #Doh

Future equestrians pose with their Girl Guide leader.

Future equestrians pose with their Girl Guide leader.