Today I skipped out of the office and enjoyed a bluebird day on the slopes of Nakiska brushing up on rusty tele turns.
Outside inspiration. (Credit: B. Kopp)
You wouldn’t think a ski hill – groomed and open – as being a place for wildlife. Nakiska is set in the Rockies. We have watched lynx crouched quietly in the tree on nearby slopes and once saw a wolverine from the Silver Chair. It hovered slope side, pacing back and forth as it waited for the opportune moment to cross. Today, the woods were silent, but the sky was alive with action as Chinook clouds painted ever-changing scenes on a cerulean backdrop.
I didn’t come back from today’s outdoor adventure with an incredible wildlife sighting or fantastic adventure tale or writing epiphany, but I did come back relaxed and happy and ready to work. That is more than enough for me.
What takes you out of the office and lets you come back in a positive frame of mind?
P.S. Came back to find an ad seeking an outdoor travel writer. Yes! Except that it’s for Ontario parks. However, it does feed the dream that outdoor travel writer jobs exist!
It’s just a flip of the calendar page, but the new month that faces us is full of promise. Of lives lived stronger, of work done harder, of promises kept better.
One of the promises I made to myself was to focus on this blog and make it matter. It is a reflection of one writer’s life, but it is also a tool for motivation – whether for writing, or getting outside, or travelling to new lands.
With this in mind, I’m going to blog 3 times a week. Tuesdays will tackle writing-related topics. Wild Wednesdays will be all about the great outdoors. Thursdays will focus on travel themes.
The posts may be a simple as a photo, a link to a published article, or a new market for writers. They may be long-winded pieces about epic mini-adventures. They will be all me.
Hopefully you find something to make you smile, to make you think, or to make you do.
I hadn’t been up Black Rock in the Ghost for over 10 years. And I probably wouldn’t have been this past weekend if fate – and Twitter – hadn’t intervened.
Let me explain.
As a writer, I’m always trying to keep up on social media – making sure I have a presence, build a brand, ya-da ya-da – you know, all those things a writer needs to do in order to stay current. Building up a following means following others and I’ve been selectively finding like-minded people/groups to follow.
Friends of the Ghost was just such a group. I followed them; they followed me back. And then they sent me a note:
Ghost Hikers & GWAS hiking up Black Rock this Sunday, Sept 21. Want to join in? @cdnhiker
Hike? Black Rock? With the Ghost Watershed Alliance Society? On a day with no looming deadlines? I’m in!
Crossing the Ghost! (Credit: M. Kopp)
Oh boy, was I in! Beyond a rough gravel road and steep hill to the river valley, access includes glacial river crossings (don’t forget to pack water shoes). The hike itself is a strenous, 900-metre elevation climb with plenty of scree.
Up, up… oh yeah… and up! (Credit: M. Kopp)
But the views just keep getting better!
Nearing the summit. (Credit: M. Kopp)
At the summit, the old fire lookout dating back to 1930s stands as a weathered testament to the will of hikers. It’s a little beaten, a little ragged – but still standing!
Black Rock Fire Lookout. (Credit: M. Kopp)
Thanks Friends of the Ghost, GWAS and Ghost Hikers for the carpool, conversation and company. Brilliant day!
Late day sun turns Black Rock golden. (Credit: M. Kopp)
The Appalachian Trail (AT) might be 2,180 miles long, but the short, approximately 4-mile, 1,740-foot climb up McAfee Knob from the Catawba Mountain parking lot (off Route 311) is one of the most popular sections. And I’m in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains to check it out firsthand.
Where in the white blazes… (Photo: M.Kopp)
With seven hikers and one small hitchhiker (a bubbly, almost three-year-old catching a lift with dad), it’s a boisterous crowd that heads out along the boulder-strewn, leaf-littered trail. Reaching the information kiosk just up the hill from the highway, we check the register and find the trail monikers of a few of the long-distance hikers: Big Heart, Typhoid Mary, and Giardia. In my head, I automatically start searching for names for my co-hikers: Tall Tree, Mama Bear, Little One, Sweet Southern Tea, Greyhound, Flight School, Chatty, and La Dama. I’ll call myself the Lucky Canuck.
We hit the trail – suspiciously heading downhill – following white blazes and clomping over four wooden walkways before inhaling the pungent scent of wood smoke as we near Johns Spring Shelter. Conversation is loud and continuous, discussing hiking and writing and travel and life. It carries our motley crew over a few more walkways and up the trail past Catawba Mountain Shelter. As luck would have it, we meet a “walking info kiosk” along the way.
A RidgeRunner show us the way! (Photo: M.Kopp)
Fletcher is a RidgeRunner, one of 30 such individuals who spend their weekends hiking a section of the AT. Fletcher’s job is to answer questions, spread the word about “Leave No Trace” ethics, and pick up garbage (he has a fishing pole, motorcycle gloves, a travel coffee mug, and a plastic water bottle in his pack today). He also carries a radio in case of trail emergencies. He tells us to look for Tinker Cliffs once we reach the summit and to see if we can find the town of Daleville – where the trail drops off the ridge.
Leaving Fletcher to continue his journey, we eventually cross the fire road, quickly realizing that the trail is now in a hurry to reach McAfee Knob. Conversations dwindle. We stop “to admire the view” a little more often. And then there’s a sign, nailed to a tree and pointing back down the trail – 3.9 miles to the highway. We’re almost there.
Fortunately, we aren’t expecting solitude at the summit. Cell phones and cameras record summit success as groups jockey for position on the rocky ledge. There is a chorus of “Can you take our photo?” But the view… even with the crowds… my jaw drops. There’s Tinker Cliffs, and that must be Daleville!
Summit views. (Photo: M.Kopp)
On the way down I realize, as I skip ahead of the group, that I’m a bit of a selfish hiker. I enjoy quiet time, digging deep into the recesses of my mind. As I find my stride, I start thinking about Grandma Gatewood. Her real name was Emma Rowena Gatewood. In 1955, at the age of 67, with 11 children and 24 grandchildren, Grandma Gatewood became the first woman to thru-hike the AT. She wore Keds and carried a laundry sack with a change of clothes, a plastic shower curtain to sleep on, a bit of food, a cup, a raincoat, and a first aid kit. She thru-hiked the AT again two years later and a third time – section, by section – when she was 75. What was she thinking as she walked this piece of the trail?
I found her, for a moment, her sneakers crunching the leaves beside my light hikers as we strolled together in silence. I didn’t ask any questions, I just thanked her for being my muse. I’ll be back again, this time to hike the whole thing. Maybe I’ll see you there.
Three kid’s books deadlines, three travel writing contracts, one freelance travel article, and my biannual, continuing education travel writing course at Mount Royal University – September was fingers to keyboard and focus, focus, focus. The process tapped resources I didn’t know I had, but it left me feeling a little burnt out.
October’s seen this writer back out on the trail. With only a book to review and a small writing project lined up, I’ve got time to get outside before the snow flies.
Early October near Helen Lake, AB (photo: B.Kopp)
Or not!
Regardless of the weather, this writer is grateful for the energy that comes from grounding myself in the outdoors. It’s pure, positive, and powerful. Writing blocks crumble, creative thoughts abound, and words flow easily again.
Yes, I skipped out of the office – again – but the sun was shining and the mountains weren’t just calling, they were screaming at us to come play! We chose Mount St. Piran, one of the easier scrambles out of Lake Louise.
Swiss guides came to the area in 1899. (Photo: M. Kopp)
Following in the footsteps of the Swiss guides who built this switchbacking trail off Little Beehive, we sauntered up the deceptively easy grade.
Enjoying the view. (Photo: M. Kopp)
Near the summit around 900 metres above Lake Louise, the grade becomes less friendly for a short piece, before topping out with superlative views of Mount Lefroy, Temple, Niblock and Whyte – to name just a few.
Summit cairn. (Photo: M. Kopp)
So what writing idea emerged from this workday spent in play? I think I need to research and write a humorous piece with a message about life near the summit from the perspective of ptarmigan, ground squirrels and marmots.
“Drop the cracker, drop the cracker, DROP THE CRACKER!”
“Aww, come on you cheapskate!”
We didn’t – nor do we ever – feed the wildlife, much to their apparent dismay. Habituated wildlife becomes life without wild – and where’s the beauty in that?
The first, as we crossed the strait heading from the northern tip of Door Peninsula over to Washington Island; the second time as we came back. My feet danced a little jig on the upper ferry deck in celebration.
Crossing Death’s Door near Plum Island on the way to Washington Island. (Photo: M. Kopp)
Door County, Wisconsin, named Porte des Morts for the Door of Death that is the treacherous strait linking Green Bay to the rest of Lake Michigan, isn’t on the radar of most Western Canadians. When I mention traveling to explore the tiny peninsula sticking out into Lake Michigan, friends and family look at me blankly.
“What’s there to do in Wisconsin besides eat cheese?”
Let me show you the adventurous side of the Door!
There are lighthouses to climb; 11 lighthouses in the county, although I only had time to climb the stairs of Cana Island, Eagle Bluff and Pottawatomie.
Cana Island Lighthouse (Photo: M. Kopp)
Countless bays and lakes are perfect for kayaking.
Kayaking out of Garrett Bay on the northern tip of Door Peninsula. (Photo: M. Kopp)
There are trails to hike in any of the county’s five state parks.
Hiking on Rock Island State Park. (Photo: M. Kopp)
There are beaches with rare polished white limestone rocks to explore.
Schoolhouse Beach on Washington Island. (Photo: M. Kopp)
And don’t even get me started on the excitement of a fish boil!
A classic fish boil at Rowley’s Bay. (Photo: M. Kopp)
It’s true, Door County might not yet be on your radar, but when you get there, you’ll wonder why you waited so long to visit.
When You Go:
Details on activities, accommodations, dining and more can be found online through the Door County Visitor Bureau.
