tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40218114776341699742024-02-20T08:34:12.098-08:00What in the world!peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-9467518239637259032009-08-12T10:30:00.000-07:002009-08-12T11:43:53.289-07:00Iceland<span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Arriving in Iceland was something like landing on another planet </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >– vast open spaces of lava rock, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQXa70Gka4u7TpwZhQh3aVz1P2xJaZpqnP6o2bptgafdkxjRYxEd6dcdHE9NtXjQsXBEIaPcabR_a5Kxq5bJlUaKYpoP3b-SrQDxc48Typ_0u_Jbq09brK2YWnq4ZvjtxLbh7ts5kJKy4/s1600-h/Iceland+%28109%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQXa70Gka4u7TpwZhQh3aVz1P2xJaZpqnP6o2bptgafdkxjRYxEd6dcdHE9NtXjQsXBEIaPcabR_a5Kxq5bJlUaKYpoP3b-SrQDxc48Typ_0u_Jbq09brK2YWnq4ZvjtxLbh7ts5kJKy4/s200/Iceland+%28109%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369138054567377042" border="0" /></a>covered in greenish lichen and moss, endless skies, and the Atlantic Ocean on one side... then suddenly there’s the airport!</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >It is about an hour’s ride by flybus from the Keflavik international airport to the country’s capital, Reykjavik. </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Reykjavik holds about 2/3 of the country’s population, the entire of Iceland which is a mere 310,000 people, and is surrounded by volcanic mountains.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >It is heated by underground thermal springs, which makes it a common sight to see steam rising all around and within the city from shunts, and pi</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >pelines zigzagging among the lava fields.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >It is the land of the midnight sun; days are long midsummer, which gives the evenings a surreal quality of colour from a slowly setting sun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuS46bpM60SzV3IqJ54MOCmf6WKgrs0RgPQLhakOt8BOf8PAsdeiCY_fbUhGJpa0vmr0_SLpoOkHHMWnBJtT_BOgqTHIUM3P2nRpa58YuIhbGbUkDUvIHR85_qR1xaughF4VPOm3PMNQV1/s1600-h/Iceland+%2882%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuS46bpM60SzV3IqJ54MOCmf6WKgrs0RgPQLhakOt8BOf8PAsdeiCY_fbUhGJpa0vmr0_SLpoOkHHMWnBJtT_BOgqTHIUM3P2nRpa58YuIhbGbUkDUvIHR85_qR1xaughF4VPOm3PMNQV1/s200/Iceland+%2882%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369138300814832946" border="0" /></a>.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" > </span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Shortly after my arrival, I took off on an evening tour of the famous Golden Circle.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">This took me to see the multi-faceted Gullfoss (golden) waterfall, the <strong style="font-weight: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="">Þingvellir National Park</span></strong>, where the <strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="">Icelandic parliam</span></strong><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="">e</span></strong><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="">nt Alþingi</span></strong> was established in 930 AD and is one of the world UNESCO heritage sites.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Also the location where the North American and Eurasian continental plates meet... which also means </span><span style="font-size:100%;">that Iceland gets its fair share of earthquakes each year!</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Finally, we stopped at a geothermal area with geysers that explode every few minutes up to several metres high.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The next day, I went on a Icelandic horse excursion.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">They gave me a little chestnut to ride, of which I felt rather big sitting on, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianzmC1KI-Uu2ew23SDc5uih3XbwSgZuz8UXacZ6vee2rilEx_D-pqY5VYcR_W7oFBoDRyF37Wdo5zkLBGTImLMawdDlipDpuuKilvAHnaSSjr283LtbKEMFkUoPWGsUiPb9H7H5lM8XO7/s1600-h/Thorsmork+049.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianzmC1KI-Uu2ew23SDc5uih3XbwSgZuz8UXacZ6vee2rilEx_D-pqY5VYcR_W7oFBoDRyF37Wdo5zkLBGTImLMawdDlipDpuuKilvAHnaSSjr283LtbKEMFkUoPWGsUiPb9H7H5lM8XO7/s200/Thorsmork+049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369136027676856594" border="0" /></a>compared to 16.3 hand Sweet Melody.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">They split the riders into two groups: the “fast group,” and “the slow group.”</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Naturally, being one for speed... plus an experienced rider, I chose the “fast group,” which meant we went along for the most part at a gait specific to the Icelandic horse, the <em><span style="">tölt</span></em>.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">The <em><span style="">tölt</span></em><i style="">,</i> (if you sit properly) is quite smooth, and fun to ride.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">After some jostling, I found my seat, and enjoyed speeding along on my little horse among a herd of probably 15 other riders in the mountainous area covered with lava and tundra plants.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">At one point, we gave the horses a rest </span><span style="font-size:100%;">and walked a short distance to the edge of a gorge that had an unexpected little waterfall.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirE65MS71AvRWBkSzvcO9wJgSLBevbTHyjauOOH-qyMBza6hU1b7pGEe4NmoOjlNCJ9ZBwqs5cRuV-UGps0o-BVA7tqWJHIn88Tv5FjbJcp2UVbhQmPVUcd91yVUz5uU0s1P7dgrwUBASp/s1600-h/blue+lagoon+%2820%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirE65MS71AvRWBkSzvcO9wJgSLBevbTHyjauOOH-qyMBza6hU1b7pGEe4NmoOjlNCJ9ZBwqs5cRuV-UGps0o-BVA7tqWJHIn88Tv5FjbJcp2UVbhQmPVUcd91yVUz5uU0s1P7dgrwUBASp/s200/blue+lagoon+%2820%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369136044004988658" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">After my horse riding tour, I continued on to the Blue Lagoon, to enjoy a beer while lounging in its warm geothermal seawater. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">The water is quite an usual colour; very light blue, and contains silica and minerals, which coat the surrounding lava rock.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">It was common to see freakishly white faced people (which included myself) slowly wading around, since there are poolside vats with ladles, that contain free-for-all mud masks made of silica, minerals and algae.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCoFzJLa-gOg8OidIhEVpctWiNpc7kPmZrMoAT-9KiWDNoXreTDZY6n0p88-SEQD1iz2RchdSxryLgf3ZTuoZNXMwXSUn5oVu6Ev0xryyA4WMfSVovDGBh4PveV_BdIcH-scgbImCv34g2/s1600-h/Thorsmork+283.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCoFzJLa-gOg8OidIhEVpctWiNpc7kPmZrMoAT-9KiWDNoXreTDZY6n0p88-SEQD1iz2RchdSxryLgf3ZTuoZNXMwXSUn5oVu6Ev0xryyA4WMfSVovDGBh4PveV_BdIcH-scgbImCv34g2/s200/Thorsmork+283.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369139521607731298" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I joined day excursion to Þórsmörk (Thor’s Woodland), a nature reserve shielded on three sides by glaciers and mountains. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Along the way, we came across a big herd of both riderless and mounted horses, freely making their way alongside the road, which was magical.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Our group took a short hike to a scenic outcrop o</span><span style="font-size:100%;">f volcanic rock in the nature reserve, that looked over the valley – we made it back just in time as clouds quickly rolled in and it started to hail <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OHoi3MxYoOJTIR4FkqLjaINWgCNOfl40ea-WaoflsZYGk838428UE4qSYHCsZWrD1uD-tNMp59BeoNn_1lqF9QDVygHODEwTFyLuMsOG04BQ_u8fFzVf6EMdfbaDnj773uDr8jUHBqMF/s1600-h/Thorsmork+415.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OHoi3MxYoOJTIR4FkqLjaINWgCNOfl40ea-WaoflsZYGk838428UE4qSYHCsZWrD1uD-tNMp59BeoNn_1lqF9QDVygHODEwTFyLuMsOG04BQ_u8fFzVf6EMdfbaDnj773uDr8jUHBqMF/s200/Thorsmork+415.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369142689608536322" border="0" /></a>(which is ironic, given that Thor is the God of Thunder).</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Sure enough, the storm passed as quickly as it came, but it gave our group enough time to enjoy a hot chocolate in the picnic shelter before carrying on. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">The tour bus was a rickety o</span><span style="font-size:100%;">ld thing, converted from an old truck, with big wheels to manage the rough roads and stream-crossings.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">We stopped at the lush Seljalandsfoss waterfall (one of the most beautiful waterfalls I’ve ever seen, complete with mist rainbows) and a hike into the gorge of Stakkholtsgjá, which involved multiple crossings of its glacial melt river. (yes, I had to Google the names again).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I spent my last morning exploring the pretty city of Reykjavik, with its many coffee shops and downward slope towards the harbour, before catching the flybus to the airport, driving past several of the many modern sculptures<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJn4T2shDYl8NeW2H6Q65dejoVQ6alcB3n4NkEms64PWffByOpP9ZCS088CFRqOHB2zYbQgpivA8PSOHdPRggx3mhKm8fh3C446lFsD9li91o9hd9xgrdWhtfLfh5WHwaU-reHyFo7B9N/s1600-h/Thorsmork+466.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJn4T2shDYl8NeW2H6Q65dejoVQ6alcB3n4NkEms64PWffByOpP9ZCS088CFRqOHB2zYbQgpivA8PSOHdPRggx3mhKm8fh3C446lFsD9li91o9hd9xgrdWhtfLfh5WHwaU-reHyFo7B9N/s200/Thorsmork+466.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369139985849410962" border="0" /></a> of the city and lichen-covered lava fields beyond.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Luckily, it was a clear day, and I got some great views of Greenland as we flew over it on my way home... to Canada. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIDawYPwi6sUt_j-EZlqi7870KJDOM9Y4uzqeNgiPLYtM96PWAFfw_rBYhDdcFw3S2_rC6oehUjqSnXM0OFeljx7U4xL094A_I9akLsuV3CaJNltFRvgJgtOOpSqlqIbatVWduyZIDPDm/s1600-h/Reykjavik_+%2846%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIDawYPwi6sUt_j-EZlqi7870KJDOM9Y4uzqeNgiPLYtM96PWAFfw_rBYhDdcFw3S2_rC6oehUjqSnXM0OFeljx7U4xL094A_I9akLsuV3CaJNltFRvgJgtOOpSqlqIbatVWduyZIDPDm/s200/Reykjavik_+%2846%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369143658535319618" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicw25uEafn3fJ02eev0AMaUc5OnIIs5sQVcvs-VbPFlJt5cwP_PEBV2X6uujJGPNKLFBD98WfU3w0zPAssjNPTQNuYDWepfzzy1sYiFPtAW8kSu9Cg5yU4iZGvxKesmeP2l1upNd41yfi9/s1600-h/Greenland+%2825%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicw25uEafn3fJ02eev0AMaUc5OnIIs5sQVcvs-VbPFlJt5cwP_PEBV2X6uujJGPNKLFBD98WfU3w0zPAssjNPTQNuYDWepfzzy1sYiFPtAW8kSu9Cg5yU4iZGvxKesmeP2l1upNd41yfi9/s200/Greenland+%2825%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369147266608975586" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-7695244490695145582009-08-06T09:38:00.000-07:002009-08-06T10:36:50.575-07:00Mr. BrightsideMy flight was delayed leaving Scotland - feeling a little pressured, I was ready to scoot off the plane quickly enough to catch my shuttle in time... sure enough, there was a fire alarm at London Stansted airport, which inevitably kept me on the plane a little while longer. Luckily, there was another shuttle an hour later, and despite a driver with a cold who decided to stop for a coffee and a re-fuel, I made it to my hotel; self and luggage intact! After a bit of running around, I managed to find my Contiki 21 Days Camping tour registration and tiny room in the huge maze of the London Royal National Hotel. A convenience store dinner and a beer or two at the hotel pub was a fine finish to that travel day!<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /></div><div>Day 1: escargot and “the city of love”<br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 157px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366895753558031634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBQ1JO2ecNqHYBre8lc0rEL00qg8NyMpb9nP0_Nx547gKZwwnq_TKwTL1ks1m5W3jXg8LMmuItrdiQImN31UzMABbVWEzGD2Zqtkr2wYItGkmAUvl6Wt-lFIW7ez4y7mzy8hS5q7XSwMcg/s320/Contiki+667.jpg" /> <div>Bright and early the next day at 6 am, four coach buses of Contiki groups met to go on their separate ways – eventually, myself and the rest of my group found our bus and were soon well on our way to Dover, England to take the ferry to Calais, France. That evening, we arrived at our Paris campsite, and set-up our twin-share tents for the first time – refugee style! After a taste of escargot, we headed into Paris for a quick walking tour of the Eiffel tower, and a drive-by of famous monuments such as the Louvre and Arc du Triomphe. “Mr. Brightside” by the Killers became our tour song, destined to be played every morning as we disembarked on the coach, to pump us up for the day.</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 205px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 138px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366895275638785010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jdh6j1s9RFTZ5yb994yk4tamN_E-ZrYEYzNZ9VhgnNcC9CZv9nn_Zd6jD3mYuZdPvMWiddOpWnlu-0Zv6sIFMRYiE2ZlRfeYQZndRRmjrRd6jdk170J7RdjAS-Nr3wRm7PKrvdU43Leu/s320/Contiki+679.jpg" /> Day 2: larger than life </div><div><br />The day was ours to explore Paris. With one other, I spent some time in the Louvre – found the Mona Lisa, which is much smaller than one would think, and is located directly across from a extraordinarily larger than life painting called “The Wedding Feast at Cana.” The Louvre had incredible ceilings, painted to coincide with the exhibits in each wing of the palace-turned-museum. Other notables include Notre Dame Cathedral (the inside was beautiful and ornate with paintings and woodwork), Arc du Triomphe (up close and personal), champs elysees, conciergerie, St.Chapelle, and du Musee d’Orsay. That evening, I dined on a 3-course French meal that included orange marinated duck, cheese and red wine before going to a French Caberet. The caberet was fun and my front-row seats gave me a great view (sometimes too good a view) of the (occasionally topless) can-can dancers, and comical performers. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366897292551850066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZ0OrLZdoGa5aIL2sK-nlBu0uxFjdWydApOIa_tU9xO3znyuz_j2M1f7QmieQLMPsLIVBMROzRVRzZkm1gYa6UeqDQq9uhIOgCFXN3IJqxVK7NNYz7aEfTYZCIZH1XSwYvl1W9zb2Gaw6/s320/Contiki+698.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>Day 3/4: cable cars</div><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 186px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 126px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366895082792202994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvPv5iSJMHlXioT25wAbiWhKnYm5tSaCTnFnWB5JeWPtFp9b8QRKpID86s5Sqr5hg7OaU_F93GMf5-DeW-DN4WfHnFq__KwGQdT1ms89hR8NPXRuzfozM0U-Fzf_h7rXUOQf5iPzsvgUM/s320/Contiki+788.jpg" /> A day’s drive from Paris to Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland brought us to the most beautiful campsite of all; surrounded by cliff faces with waterfalls, and snowy mountains in the distance. I spent my full day in Switzerland alone – exploring the mountain villages. A cable car and railway took me from the valley town of Lauterbrunnen to Winteregg. A scenic hike from Winteregg to Murren and Gimmelwald took me among slopeside hobby farms with bells hanging on the sheds for large livestock, and beautifully decorated wood houses. A cable car from Gimmelwald to Stechelberg and a walk to Trummelbach led me to the relatively unknown Trummelbach falle, a waterfall that has chiselled itself through the inside of a mountain. From Trummelbach, I wandered along the glacial Weisse Lutschine river, with hang gliders in the air all over the place and the snowy Jungfrau mountain in the distance. Not a bad day, I must say! That evening, we celebrated the land of the Swiss, dressed in red and white – it was a good thing that I had shorts underneath the white towel I wore as a skirt because towels don’t stay put very well!<br /><br /><div>Day 5/6: I smell Nice<br /></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 224px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 142px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366896488113715794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpk2L0n6QcT28iFpLGiZ4pHCw5h9WWpsgBtZngX6AjmK7vF-gVPJu4dAO5Nc81bTkK3h0eiMO1ySYEkvukopBt-OcRWNk0kMnSCNVlbspuXHGSgIKDyAORrHGO7MyBSOIMXwVF27c9gyG/s320/Contiki+921.jpg" /> After setting up camp in Antibes, France, we spent a day in Nice, France. After a stop at a French perfumery for a promotional tour, I got myself some etoile scent and carried on to the beaches of Nice. That evening, we took a trip into Monaco, the world’s second-smallest country. Monaco was very posh with its harbour full of multi-million dollar yachts, clean streets and casino parking lots packed with Rolls Royce, Bentleys and Mercedes. Apparently the country’s unattractive prince has a reputation for having a long line of women companions that frequent his palace...<br /><br /><div>Day 7/8: heat stroke<br /></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 136px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 189px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366898511009211362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85lz_U4TFiUHew6izDEwgBbFD-Itgs04UjHcX3Vddp-CRFiv4eRbQaGw6fMzCPbRbvV7insMj4ZE215hpQxX3Qzr8Lz8_xKCq9LW-RI3zeNmPQRwryn82I6mM6eqyLw7CP-Kg2BtTJ3v_/s320/Contiki+944.jpg" /> 40 C temperatures slowed me down completely in Italy. Drinking lots of water, and dousing myself, clothing and all got me through those temperatures. However, I still managed to “push” and “kick” the leaning tower of Pisa, and Florence was beautiful with its canals, old architecture, naked sculptures (including a replica of David), leather and silver. A multi-course Italian pasta dinner revived me enough to shake it up at a retro space disco dance club. I was woken early one morning at our Florence campsite by something brushing against my foot... turns out that one member of my group was drunkenly dragging himself into my tent, and passed out half-in, half-out. I finally kicked him out when I returned after a shower and saw him starting to drag himself towards my sleeping bag and pillow... ah, Contiki! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 141px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366897918962520274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2vYJsXSk6TVr9ygmG2_q1DkHrj83A8dYWPCmvUGYNc1uTS9KhjiCFJ4QMBeqaJJ7eejBR88Ek7Z4Hp82OHj45d4AfuM7RIt9HJkIvrVrnZnh5vGYs_-f0SMJPpBjkOfTMsggUcx4m01V9/s320/Contiki+950.jpg" /> Day 9/10: Do as the Romans do...<br /><br /><div>Rome was old, very old... the city is built upon ruins from older civilizations, and many ruins lie throughout. It boasts the colosseum/forum, Spanish steps, the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain (throw a coin in for each three wishes – a first wish of your choice, a second wish, you will fall in love, a third wish, you will fall in love with an Italian...) I visited the world’s smallest country, the Vatican City. After going through countless arches with masses of people (we weren’t sure which arch signified the end of a long tour through the Vatican Museum -> xxxxxxxxxxiii????), and sneaking a picture of the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling (all of the ceilings and tapestries of the Vatican museum were spectacular), it was time to wolf down excellent pizza at the Piazza Navona. I showed my true colours as a rider on a mechanical bull, in a bikini at a beach party at the Rome campsite, yeehaw... oh, and pole dancing in the bar afterwards was a nice finale to the night!<br /></div><br /><div>Day 11/12: left behind <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 143px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366899713414963474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ8pI34eOwxEBf0zP38lMG5leRr2ywR50hUTzyxq8BiSH7ZYpbeX2nLtzEm9dkhMIJNqh-QNIGMWjMt7ao-Ps5OOiVk6bpeXGSu6twhdNyJEDa-eGU1Cu0ix7qtq9zCORIGx2vbiAXKIhX/s320/Contiki+1185.jpg" /> After a stop in the university town of Bologna, we arrived in Venice. A water taxi ride into the mostly concrete city of Venice led to a day of viewing the St. Marks’ square, St. Peter’s basilica, glass blowing demonstrations, a visit to a lace maker, and lots of bridges with gondolas tied nearby. A quest for pizza at a good price with the boys satisfied my appetite and gave me energy to explore the markets full of glass, china masks and lace. Before our water taxi home, I made a quick stop in a supermarket to stock up on sunscreen, and it turned out that security wouldn’t let me in with my backpack. Tight for time, I handed it over to a member of my group and went into the store. I ran out afterwards, with only my camera and wallet, to discover that I didn’t know where exactly the ferry was, and missed it... stuck in Venice with no documentation of my campsite or map, I was a little panicked. Luckily, there were more Contiki groups heading back to the same campsite, so I returned 2 hours behind schedule... and proceeded to comfort myself with red wine.<br /></div><div>Day 13/14: Wien<br /></div><div>Our first evening in Vienna (Wien), Austria we spent at an amusement park and went on a few roller coaster rides, which was a treat after spending the better part of the day traveling on the bus, driving past the craggy peaks of the Italian and Austrian Alps. The next day I spent in the city, mostly on the popular main shopping street (believe it or not, I bought myself a dress for those occasions when I am required to look somewhat more feminine), and had a quick tour of the famous Spanish Riding School. The riding school was beautifully kept, with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the arena, and the tack room immaculate, with two sets of equipment for each Lipizzaner horse, all of which come from a single breeding farm in Italy. I spent the evening at a Mozart and Strauss concert, in the very building that Mozart composed his music (which I got to explore during intermission). <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 140px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366902783283962066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMjk9BrsloyPhdWQIr9GV-I8OU4-xAhB1D5j6COhcEmevSeE1AIOy57P6dCcIxikrsgZ8iNWYao_xAEk3D25J4pY-aJXInQhEvkD4rVfhV-4MCfeUzRdpSyNVVH5UOo-XCf5bV47eHd58/s320/Contiki+1284.jpg" /> Day 15/16: Czech this out<br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 112px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366900595559699410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhenRGdsrW1IXbGLi3pxCyUHMRsbiaGtoku8JNsQLIx3Nqobz9ahF2Wg19zAiSdorF9iWLBEpBdJKxy-U8-jTXxoCooeewyrGaYEXeQ8ikXM_gX-gOfUgXlm5iRuNH2_Q9ZiwHYIvK06e/s320/Contiki+1313.jpg" /><br /><div>Our tour made a stop in Cesky Krumlov, a UNESCO world heritage site. The buildings were very colourful, and the castle of Cesky Krumlov had painted-on building blocks, which was a different design than what I had been seeing in other parts of Europe. Prague, Czech Republic was another pretty old city, with palaces and cathedrals throughout. A revolution in Prague after they became liberated was to incorporate modern art into the city, so much of Prague is dotted with unusual sculptures and creations. One in particular had two “men” swivelling their hips, peeing on the shape of the Czech Republic, another was a giant iambic pentameter up on the bank of the river. A lunchtime cruise down a canal in Prague was most pleasant and gave a good view of all the modern mixed with the old. The metro of Prague was memorable... I could barely stand on the never ending escalator, given its optical illusion effect, being very long, bright and the signs on the same angle as the escalator. We got lost, trying to find our way around the metro (Czech can be a bit tricky to read, yet the signs for watching out for pickpockets were quite clear), so nevertheless, I had to ride the escalator more than a few times...<br /></div><br /><div>Day 17: PROST! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 189px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 124px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366901391471940386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHp1Iw9k_J36NNxXouFW3HtW8_mYXE4cvrYX1e16jNSgf_pFKulJALIoxzGfHh5k_5mVfGZ25CU_tVPmSIEtZwvmaVCv5Kergu6u3M2YsFWFtg-kRHtRGh4Y_QhLkECICK_SCrXiN55s_A/s320/Contiki+1517.jpg" /> A jaunt to the glockenspiel and the German market (sporting cherries, pig heads and strange looking fish) in Munich was a prelude to a large dinner at a Bavarian beer hall. I lost count of how many times we prosted in-between trumpet playing and German dance performances, not because of the size of our beer mugs, but because of the number of times the trumpet player reached down to pick up his mug and demanded “Ladies and Gentlemen... a prost!” (which was literally every five minutes or so). I was happy to oblige, and enjoyed a big meal of pork knuckle and dumplings in-between.<br /></div><div>Day 18: a table dance, sir?<br /></div><div></div><div>My tent-mate and two others indulged ourselves to a night in a cabin in Heidelberg, Germany after a few damp nights prior. Such luxury it was to sleep on a mattress with a solid roof over our heads after 18 nights in a tent! (By then, our tent had started to deteriorate after the number of times it had been pitched and taken down in haste, and now resembled a tepee with its broken fly pole). After an evening of exploring the small town of Heidelberg, we had an excellent campsite supper with lots of food, spiked strawberry punch, red wine and Bailey’s chocolate mousse pie for dessert. This led to fun in the laundry/mess hall. I desperately needed to do laundry by then, and all I had to wear was my short skin-tight tiger print dress... which set the stage for table dancing. I’ll explain... in a little (silly) game of spin-the-bottle and truth and dare, I chose dare. Luckily, my darer was kind, and all I had to do was dance down the picnic tables to music – no problem!<br /></div><div>Day 19/20: Amster-damn!<br /></div><div></div><div>Our first evening in the Netherlands, we were given the option of going to a sex show – I figured, it’s Amsterdam... why not!! After visiting one of the local cafe’s and enjoying some home grown, I carried on to the show with the others... in one of the scenes, a guy dressed as a policeman strides down the aisle and picks one of the girls from my group... I’m laughing away, until he pointed at me – haha...uh... well, sure, why not! So, up on stage I went, and got “searched” by his police baton... a naughty policeman!! Then, piece by piece, we had to undress him, and apply body lotion... Amster-damnn!<br /></div><div>The remainder of Contiki was much more low-key – we visited a cheese and clog factory, went for a little bike ride in a Dutch village; I visited the famous Ann Frank house and tulip market in Amsterdam. The following day, we passed through Belgium, back to the Calais, France ferry, and finally to London, and said our good-byes. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-29146286079774432622009-08-05T18:28:00.000-07:002009-08-05T19:07:03.461-07:00"I'll take the high road, if you take the low road..."It was the strangest thing – flying to Scotland that is. I left Toronto at 6pm, and arrived in Glasgow at 5:45am the next day. It wasn’t so much <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHvXYxrar3xLmkDFKrgxxmJpAUy6Qt_f_pdvkBpZiQOxG9vxdSacbLJFxgFpbvcpcABOEt8j8vwwoBlfCh7Sio3fOIxZ18Pb5PTaQPjcimN2fIKuVf9l070bLl1-YC6BkKXHD2GSq8R1ci/s1600-h/Scotland+(2).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 160px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 109px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366657698942714914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHvXYxrar3xLmkDFKrgxxmJpAUy6Qt_f_pdvkBpZiQOxG9vxdSacbLJFxgFpbvcpcABOEt8j8vwwoBlfCh7Sio3fOIxZ18Pb5PTaQPjcimN2fIKuVf9l070bLl1-YC6BkKXHD2GSq8R1ci/s320/Scotland+(2).jpg" /></a>the loss of a night’s sleep, but the fact that the sunset and sunrise seemed to last for hours as our plane headed overseas. It was like we were trapped in some kind of portal that was sending us through a neverland of <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga9vrh5s-pwDpCFP2YBJUIW8b-P5hhlVRsW300-IOGwyTTnlbywahMfXA4VrVf_4IoPwz3aODdO1U_CbXKB_06zHxZf58MlHGxFzIS2Kq8m3GV820STCO1zeo51pTG1NFMNz-V3l5x-iXZ/s1600-h/Scotland+(102).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 139px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 106px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366658770117079490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga9vrh5s-pwDpCFP2YBJUIW8b-P5hhlVRsW300-IOGwyTTnlbywahMfXA4VrVf_4IoPwz3aODdO1U_CbXKB_06zHxZf58MlHGxFzIS2Kq8m3GV820STCO1zeo51pTG1NFMNz-V3l5x-iXZ/s320/Scotland+(102).jpg" /></a>cloud tinted with orange, yellow, red and purples. Within half an hour or so of the sun finally going down, it rose again, with renewed bright colours of a new day. Now, you’re probably wondering why the heck I’m going on about the sky, when we’ve all seen a sunrise and sunset... <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqozTpPNvcArzXrBovZJtwo_xuzriZFctzpz0lqz2nsYyMJ6tCdijDiBeY-Aq1YuOXt9KFAKAmD2CpA9ast1E2H5yu9yKwSsVbYfKPDQKD90rIB83EE5kdrjDQ7l1SGEiZDen-TK3r76FU/s1600-h/Scotland+(162).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 165px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 106px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366659993166570450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqozTpPNvcArzXrBovZJtwo_xuzriZFctzpz0lqz2nsYyMJ6tCdijDiBeY-Aq1YuOXt9KFAKAmD2CpA9ast1E2H5yu9yKwSsVbYfKPDQKD90rIB83EE5kdrjDQ7l1SGEiZDen-TK3r76FU/s320/Scotland+(162).jpg" /></a>that’s probably because I had nothing better to do except stare out the window of the plane for the better part of 7 hours... The<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzLSLSRo5AzX3pU9s3Fb1g4bQ3tsIv9QJ_pmm992lgifjWOIxk7FAq2W3fvn21InMNC-N2BTYRnVe4ItIJYeJX5yg-p1B8xD4tFk0JZVzR9trcNlBs5fEge-2LtQS8MSBjxcFZgbNZgRy0/s1600-h/Scotland+(210).jpg"></a> other option was to watch “Bolt” (the wonder dog), which I’ve seen before – with no captions, on a tiny little tv screen in the aisle of the plane with a headset that didn’t work properly... eat terrible <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xCFGZD5CfxZ5zv0WTHfdRz0S9zg8uSZet1NurGUuV4WbZ0XgvAZC2kmIBDglWkiEKbVw-DfAbXBHUFpuDfVTvfXEjWkYoBTaXXDbXtPCoCj9kCM2GvAxY-LA04faUHza8mOPkvKeUcE5/s1600-h/Scotland+(97).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 116px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366658643106954450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xCFGZD5CfxZ5zv0WTHfdRz0S9zg8uSZet1NurGUuV4WbZ0XgvAZC2kmIBDglWkiEKbVw-DfAbXBHUFpuDfVTvfXEjWkYoBTaXXDbXtPCoCj9kCM2GvAxY-LA04faUHza8mOPkvKeUcE5/s320/Scotland+(97).jpg" /></a>plane food, or to read a magazine I already read two hours ago... yep, sunrise was much more interesting! <br /><br />Scotland – the country, it was amazing. Friends of the family, Pauline and Bobby welcomed me into their home in Dundonald, for the better part of the 2 week stay. They were extremely kind in their hospitality, and took me to see many places in the lush green country of the kilt. Scotl<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOodxrA9X23yEAAGfiM_Lli0w-zUQ4YbRshXW01WoScoYRLcazk3Jd6A18N2KQGciw0lU3cSTTpi8CHqArRw456XUV5zq2LsJ81ZP6055791KW4ZzLJGsBa1uTaZG_KuBFkgjkuhMSsUd/s1600-h/Scotland+(46).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 159px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 95px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366658369263461138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOodxrA9X23yEAAGfiM_Lli0w-zUQ4YbRshXW01WoScoYRLcazk3Jd6A18N2KQGciw0lU3cSTTpi8CHqArRw456XUV5zq2LsJ81ZP6055791KW4ZzLJGsBa1uTaZG_KuBFkgjkuhMSsUd/s320/Scotland+(46).jpg" /></a>and is located relatively on the same latitude as Churchill, but has a very different climate due to the Gulf Stream – palm trees, need I say more? Every town had its own castle, some dating back to the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipg9MtthJHM3-0qbIV_7LddsCBsuqLR288OhBQe1WZaVwu9pqalyQ6TlFKez0KhNhyphenhyphenw1btV0SehdM80f7AfZFQgL6ikYB8t1XYr8BY3j3Ye5UKzcqKyddAYOzhsGIvgLRwPA6cov-8t7PB/s1600-h/Scotland+(299).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 172px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 115px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366662033173283042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipg9MtthJHM3-0qbIV_7LddsCBsuqLR288OhBQe1WZaVwu9pqalyQ6TlFKez0KhNhyphenhyphenw1btV0SehdM80f7AfZFQgL6ikYB8t1XYr8BY3j3Ye5UKzcqKyddAYOzhsGIvgLRwPA6cov-8t7PB/s320/Scotland+(299).jpg" /></a>1100’s, so crumbling castles became a common sight, but still ever neat. I was impressed with Scotland’s turn towards sustainable energy – modern wind turbines spun on rolling hills dotted with sheep... lots of sheep (aka haggis... which is very yummy by the way!)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjldsIspFQf4Jp-9RdhXk_txnpw4GzOIfBdFpn6z4TPDlp9G9_AH4R54g0F81Q8xlOxYABs_wGyZ6QObE2PR5EdYM7jrGyUaHuUz3ZgXsbXnWaW1glIQZGP2kblRInkJUcYRF-M-_-liwQa/s1600-h/Scotland+(119).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 139px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 103px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366658963003708194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjldsIspFQf4Jp-9RdhXk_txnpw4GzOIfBdFpn6z4TPDlp9G9_AH4R54g0F81Q8xlOxYABs_wGyZ6QObE2PR5EdYM7jrGyUaHuUz3ZgXsbXnWaW1glIQZGP2kblRInkJUcYRF-M-_-liwQa/s320/Scotland+(119).jpg" /></a><br />I spent a weekend on Holy Island, which is the site of a Buddhist retreat. Their Centre f<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqhCYcWISxAYDyE4mlA5yhqf8YShK0doPwPi8ZExOBL-IA8SYtEnTLz49tfiBeN9r6_lXmS6B8aeYKb5xm6XlDXeUKBf87HxI8yp7-6Oc8etPwYkJOkUsbMtbRoyYV_FUKpccn0v_NNwf/s1600-h/Scotland+(202).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 171px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 126px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366660379479764050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqhCYcWISxAYDyE4mlA5yhqf8YShK0doPwPi8ZExOBL-IA8SYtEnTLz49tfiBeN9r6_lXmS6B8aeYKb5xm6XlDXeUKBf87HxI8yp7-6Oc8etPwYkJOkUsbMtbRoyYV_FUKpccn0v_NNwf/s320/Scotland+(202).jpg" /></a>or World Peace and Inner Health is open to all faiths is located at the North end of the little island. All I can say is that there is something truly magical about the place. The moment I stepped off the ferry (which really is a small boat that makes its way between the larger island Arran), I walked out among wild Eriskay ponies and Soay sheep that were grazing on the front lawn of the retreat, while sailboats were moored nearby. The animals peacefully coexist with the humans, and are not interfered with, as th<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCqxlYXV15w1GlToaklisK5u9z4j517z2EnXrBgYkS_XjeTJH2ID1S89omwRu-d_EAfMVxAjoUszze-ezzYw7SaMlW-yoX6-3vOjkOVIrbwhsUbxLhPnJUVt2vVx0n1g9CI2AROo9dUHlc/s1600-h/Scotland+(248).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 175px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 126px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366661709146197938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCqxlYXV15w1GlToaklisK5u9z4j517z2EnXrBgYkS_XjeTJH2ID1S89omwRu-d_EAfMVxAjoUszze-ezzYw7SaMlW-yoX6-3vOjkOVIrbwhsUbxLhPnJUVt2vVx0n1g9CI2AROo9dUHlc/s320/Scotland+(248).jpg" /></a>e island is also an animal sanctuary and nature conservatory. The retreat survives pretty much soley on the crop of the gardens – the meals are rather granola, but very fresh and healthy. I hiked/climbed the two mountains on the island, Mullach Beag (759ft) and Mullach Mor (1026ft) first thing one morning; the top was enclosed in fog, but that was perfectly fine by me – I keep reminding myself of a quote throughout my trip (not sure who said it) “it’s not the end result that matters so much as the journey to get there.” This has proven to be the case time and time again – hikes, life experiences, etc. The hike to the top and around Holy Island was very peaceful, and on my w<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSqio2DwVP1N0me3_O12VHyxHHeufp-_fW4xDgOx7Ww246FfZP8DODRNqleMitZA_FaRK0dX_Cu1NMrTFhSDVLbbVPtbGGqfTtAYTgY9hpQmIpceevvhnqBAl6eHkj9j48ZoZIzZ3auJA/s1600-h/Scotland+(339).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 179px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 125px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366662321564248866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSqio2DwVP1N0me3_O12VHyxHHeufp-_fW4xDgOx7Ww246FfZP8DODRNqleMitZA_FaRK0dX_Cu1NMrTFhSDVLbbVPtbGGqfTtAYTgY9hpQmIpceevvhnqBAl6eHkj9j48ZoZIzZ3auJA/s320/Scotland+(339).jpg" /></a>ay back to the retreat, I came upon a second herd of Eriskay ponies – a bunch of young bachelors who were on the path in front of me, so I ended up going the last leg of my hike along with the herd of wild horses. I was just slightly put out that I hadn’t seen any mountain goats on my hike. I had some lunch, while there was a brief summer rain, and sure enough, the sun came out, and I discovered a whole herd of mountain goats had settled themselves nearby the retreat. I was truly in my element when I sped after them to start taking pictures – I hung out with them for a little while, braving the dive-bombing seagulls (for the umpteenth time on this island). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHb4qgjWzmjKEFHZ4XfvPnam2-cQjnOGUZhhf1XC6OxzIhwxyfGYL6RZtCydtO0FG-BmUOt7LIonF9c2Tn2Y7B25Ftz6lZFTFX5KVH-EPemlwwiREnSKBEEBDuc8-TnLQJD8aWjVZUBdF8/s1600-h/Scotland+(347).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 111px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 141px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366663054677756994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHb4qgjWzmjKEFHZ4XfvPnam2-cQjnOGUZhhf1XC6OxzIhwxyfGYL6RZtCydtO0FG-BmUOt7LIonF9c2Tn2Y7B25Ftz6lZFTFX5KVH-EPemlwwiREnSKBEEBDuc8-TnLQJD8aWjVZUBdF8/s320/Scotland+(347).jpg" /></a><br /><br />Feeling refreshed, I left Holy Island for Aran, and was given a tip by the ferry captain of a place that was terrific for seal <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoURg62uBb0BewUbd-Pu3fvU9bnuFpUKZE9RizDtUBuqyagDNUazsQwOnD6jf0t6GaMljk_7d1HICwzO-wgqZ2ipjotjlN3zPtZf1x0Qdjvz9pv4_uXhvGaAd_Oj7Eb1ZfO00MdJuT5Xsa/s1600-h/Scotland+(382).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 162px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 102px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366663698107761298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoURg62uBb0BewUbd-Pu3fvU9bnuFpUKZE9RizDtUBuqyagDNUazsQwOnD6jf0t6GaMljk_7d1HICwzO-wgqZ2ipjotjlN3zPtZf1x0Qdjvz9pv4_uXhvGaAd_Oj7Eb1ZfO00MdJuT5Xsa/s320/Scotland+(382).jpg" /></a>and dolphin watching. I waited for a bus heading that way, but none seemed to be coming anytime soon. Not about to miss-out, I stuck out my thumb, and started walking – a kind local picked me up, and took me most of the way, thankfully. Sure enough, it was well-worth the trip!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJwDBOtniMHo5UJW2FYNqBHkyuJftK7TRYE-9uJkfTHTMlToDRICA9JZtkseFWM28FydDSRp4JrVqmOM494TW8XjOGprksrCypgrB2tqVWea8u7DL93ESRTLp18W06-P_RyjIztxGWNFaE/s1600-h/DSC_0032.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 143px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 110px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366665435353085346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJwDBOtniMHo5UJW2FYNqBHkyuJftK7TRYE-9uJkfTHTMlToDRICA9JZtkseFWM28FydDSRp4JrVqmOM494TW8XjOGprksrCypgrB2tqVWea8u7DL93ESRTLp18W06-P_RyjIztxGWNFaE/s320/DSC_0032.JPG" /></a><br />It was one of my dreams to gallop a horse on a beach, so I signed up for a 2.5hr ride to the beach in Ayr. Most of it was riding along the Scottish countryside road<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh835BCi7IgKtnEogBOe5HvrAIgjaO0awW7BrLygLJG5t248s3gU56SHSXUiqx3RaTLY7MWQKhyphenhyphenbhtQ5P3guKa4Qkn8LrHEa0YMAY49HOJEzEXDvm91-UXtyV-HzfRVp0YS1M8tXbcRwyrs/s1600-h/Scotland+(372).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 160px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 130px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366663526791975362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh835BCi7IgKtnEogBOe5HvrAIgjaO0awW7BrLygLJG5t248s3gU56SHSXUiqx3RaTLY7MWQKhyphenhyphenbhtQ5P3guKa4Qkn8LrHEa0YMAY49HOJEzEXDvm91-UXtyV-HzfRVp0YS1M8tXbcRwyrs/s320/Scotland+(372).jpg" /></a>s and through the city, but sure enough, I got my ten-minutes of absolute freedom – another thing to check off my list!<br /><br />I spent another weekend with some people in Glasgow who have a cottage on Millport Island, including a night in their trailer on the island. One of my hosts, Robin, took me on a 4.5hr hike up a “ben” (mountain) called “The Cobbler”, which aside <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEeuk1LTiR4laUsAwLzf69hDwsYgJfOrM2dDJwsnVDw3TJsasGGR_zK7OGQUJIUa15_QxRNnOE7r-4vvks_Ky0tS1UxCGyBmB2JAv__O58PxqUpIjMoSyxUjq9AZXlsyb3gMWCMqZlGGv/s1600-h/Scotland+(607).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 149px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 105px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366665036173411506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEeuk1LTiR4laUsAwLzf69hDwsYgJfOrM2dDJwsnVDw3TJsasGGR_zK7OGQUJIUa15_QxRNnOE7r-4vvks_Ky0tS1UxCGyBmB2JAv__O58PxqUpIjMoSyxUjq9AZXlsyb3gMWCMqZlGGv/s320/Scotland+(607).jpg" /></a>from its stunning view, has a jagged rock that sits on top of a sheer drop, and has a hole in it. If you climb through and on top of the rock, it’s called “threading the needle”... and you bet, I threaded my needle ;)<br /><br />I'll finish off this post with another favourite quote that crossed my mind a few times during my trip: "life is not about the numbers of breaths you take, but the number of times that your breath is taken away" (once again, I don't know who said this... but it's good!)peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-43735260909318105142009-06-15T13:52:00.000-07:002009-06-15T14:41:07.765-07:00Huffin' and PUFFIN<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSi-0IGALGyCinKBRJBbDoMeAn2idiYAVVAzsuNpRHrZwlybx2-Iopzck6hJV2FgpzI8nRqE4YOwDBnrwxKixJm93Zt9epv5Tmw53dY9wxjMCquK9bqaUGV04YyKcM29J8imyBfyGZz74/s1600-h/Newfoundland+by+Jess+050.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347660976564861314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 176px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSi-0IGALGyCinKBRJBbDoMeAn2idiYAVVAzsuNpRHrZwlybx2-Iopzck6hJV2FgpzI8nRqE4YOwDBnrwxKixJm93Zt9epv5Tmw53dY9wxjMCquK9bqaUGV04YyKcM29J8imyBfyGZz74/s320/Newfoundland+by+Jess+050.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />At last, I can say that I have set foot in every province of Canada. A CHHA (Canadian Hard of Hearing Association) conference in Saint John’s, Newfoundland brought me to the beautiful rugged, and varied terrain of this province.<br /><br />Upon my arrival; in the Sheraton hotel lobby, I unexpectedly came face-to-face with someone whom I had been in touch with over the past seven years via the internet; related to cochlear implants. Despite the fact we had never met in person, Monique and I got along like we had been good friends for years!<br /><br />After roaming among the colourful multi-story houses of Saint John’s, a relaxing massage, sipping mint hot chocolate in a corner cafe with a friend from Nova Scotia, listening to and meeting famous inspirational speakers at the conference, watching clumsy puffins take off and land from the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIpNwrRVz38hC5wTmnuxDNqEs_nmZ8bje1EePhfUQo02e5hyphenhyphenyoYmHL5qCHvancb1_n4_OiIg3ICbkTic3K-rwJAWuttHzhCcBEa83VpCqaIgIe9K4K90Kt7sOtLuv_4pwxSL6bar0Rdtw/s1600-h/Newfoundland+by+Jess+165.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347670780106964706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIpNwrRVz38hC5wTmnuxDNqEs_nmZ8bje1EePhfUQo02e5hyphenhyphenyoYmHL5qCHvancb1_n4_OiIg3ICbkTic3K-rwJAWuttHzhCcBEa83VpCqaIgIe9K4K90Kt7sOtLuv_4pwxSL6bar0Rdtw/s320/Newfoundland+by+Jess+165.jpg" border="0" /></a>world’s largest puffin colony and whales spouting among icebergs in the Atlantic Ocean, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyTddBKGuxY-4WR0jVyvHfHPX3XJ-EyjqLITBET-GHc2qoEDC4bi3WMCqyrK4pXzHisR0h5q63hSlUANzAWJ1AtXgu9iP7SeHtW8PBN5BHOCE7Ymny2DGk32eru6zGB1FGA_ZIMVgTFZ1d/s1600-h/Newfoundland+by+Jess+227.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347661370052260498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 143px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 115px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyTddBKGuxY-4WR0jVyvHfHPX3XJ-EyjqLITBET-GHc2qoEDC4bi3WMCqyrK4pXzHisR0h5q63hSlUANzAWJ1AtXgu9iP7SeHtW8PBN5BHOCE7Ymny2DGk32eru6zGB1FGA_ZIMVgTFZ1d/s320/Newfoundland+by+Jess+227.jpg" border="0" /></a>shooting Screeches and eating cod tongues (both specialties of the province by the way), bar-hopping during a pub crawl on George Street under the surveillance of mounted RCMP officers, a late-night hike up the historic Signal Hill to watch dawn break, it was time to leave my old and newly found CHHA friends and carry on to the opposite end of the province.<br /><br />A flight to Deer Lake, Newfoundland and an hour’s drive with two moose sightings along the way, brought my mom and I to Norris Point, located on Bonne Bay in Gros Morne National Park. This was one of the several small seaside towns we stayed at during our visit in the Park. All of which of course, specialize in seafood. A word of advice for those who plan to visit such towns in the future – a four star is not like a four star in the city, and it is best to stick with the seafood options on the menus!<br /><br />A special treat and intro to the park included an evening of a gourmet dinner at a restaurant we had by chance all to ourselves, with a view of the calm bay and snow-capped mountains. Evening entertainment followed at the local town meeting place, with a humourous Parks Canada interpreter’s recap of the diverse geology of the park, and a live jazz band.<br /><br />Our first hike, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_NkC7_yaVJ_Mc5rf0E8f7WX2Ot5-ou5MsSK2TMX6xgtiVQN06awI9rIwJslcxlVyk_olvfmMvSAh1XJO12xGXIqbUga26ydmJe_jQdJWdOg0YM3oF5Tz_j0oCDvwVHNp-FuEToLFBSi7/s1600-h/4146_212494930005_796860005_6891152_7636704_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347663477749839554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_NkC7_yaVJ_Mc5rf0E8f7WX2Ot5-ou5MsSK2TMX6xgtiVQN06awI9rIwJslcxlVyk_olvfmMvSAh1XJO12xGXIqbUga26ydmJe_jQdJWdOg0YM3oF5Tz_j0oCDvwVHNp-FuEToLFBSi7/s320/4146_212494930005_796860005_6891152_7636704_n.jpg" border="0" /></a>along the Baker’s Brook Falls trail took us to a lovely waterfall, overshadowed by sub-alpine flora and the Long Range Mountains. We stayed the night in a popular town further North, called Rocky Harbour. It had rugged cliff faces and the picturesque Lobster Cove lighthouse.<br /><br />First thing the next morning, we walked the Western Brook Pond, which had a landscape that changed from plains to forest and finally to tall mountains. Along the way, we encountered a moose cow and her calf, in the middle of the path. Making sure her calf was safe, the mother blocked our progress and even allowed us to approach <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18N7By8-89m4eWX0lGO6bZtuK_cHIvi2KNKBE1P_TmRbnH2fm51H7Hm5lnVRLCz5_cn-5N60lb0hecwLD4H6ERJj0jTsnJ_vSsJKgUAlYaHk22birQvg_pvlXBsd5UseU6u_CLMv5kKix/s1600-h/Newfoundland+by+Jess+370.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347662084589748018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 193px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 122px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18N7By8-89m4eWX0lGO6bZtuK_cHIvi2KNKBE1P_TmRbnH2fm51H7Hm5lnVRLCz5_cn-5N60lb0hecwLD4H6ERJj0jTsnJ_vSsJKgUAlYaHk22birQvg_pvlXBsd5UseU6u_CLMv5kKix/s320/Newfoundland+by+Jess+370.jpg" border="0" /></a>her within a few metres before ambling back into the bush. That was exciting! That trail ended at the Western Brook Gorge; sheer cliff faces that tower over a pristine mountain spring fed lake, interestingly enough free of fish and vegetation due to its newness as far as glacial timefra<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRO5OjCjF0RJEbHcsTNpQUb5zV1KltMuplP2D5gLw6RR5Pj59kzfVJEqszeIGwnh1p0LgNL3frtmS3lokUtPX4kuYo7bvk3Jd6YP68K6FpDMlWTUNCRlMlryhVl8gkjPt9YK0-le-ZwWP8/s1600-h/Newfoundland+by+Jess+345.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347666214853192050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 102px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRO5OjCjF0RJEbHcsTNpQUb5zV1KltMuplP2D5gLw6RR5Pj59kzfVJEqszeIGwnh1p0LgNL3frtmS3lokUtPX4kuYo7bvk3Jd6YP68K6FpDMlWTUNCRlMlryhVl8gkjPt9YK0-le-ZwWP8/s320/Newfoundland+by+Jess+345.jpg" border="0" /></a>me goes.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The next two nights we spent in Cow Head, which had everything from sandy and rocky beaches with seals sunbathing nearby, to mixed and coniferous forests, plains and mountains all within view. The Old<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnkcQ74QL9IExlv73dQlstooGr92plraCN5DNI7-rI-z3CQhxTkA-5Tb7O-hZn6zwt720jSbBSfgvamNvYwqwIXqszGCoA90PfT-q7z9HrfMCg9B6aFjgWIjV2om2pSpMt1WnYtcILI6d/s1600-h/4146_212494935005_796860005_6891153_5573277_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347667430368527186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnkcQ74QL9IExlv73dQlstooGr92plraCN5DNI7-rI-z3CQhxTkA-5Tb7O-hZn6zwt720jSbBSfgvamNvYwqwIXqszGCoA90PfT-q7z9HrfMCg9B6aFjgWIjV2om2pSpMt1WnYtcILI6d/s320/4146_212494935005_796860005_6891153_5573277_n.jpg" border="0" /></a> Mail Road <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRz9tdnjMhSGUnyqEuiuARDyI6Q2u-pU7h7RoODJfEnL_02U9-654RftMMYJOvmRu0l_SFf935NeGZfoe2tw_L980pZffzzKyokCYLPo_muRFZ7xy57p9KDTDiFSWz3vjbigd8pMtz4PYs/s1600-h/4146_212494935005_796860005_6891153_5573277_n.jpg"></a>trek took us along a duned beach littered with sand dollars and broken shells, and onto the serene <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTorjybJi2TgO1DA1VEVXPdLzmVNDDqKIHxh4JVFNHALVRW3RH9KhVbFTrmEZkBHi1uYOoq1zzkuY6n_K8baMx1sHBK6-BkmCgwGON-bWwdKJDJfczSXFVRphnXK5jc5m_1AYx2ax8U-YZ/s1600-h/4146_212494980005_796860005_6891160_4131353_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347664429778001746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 151px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 116px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTorjybJi2TgO1DA1VEVXPdLzmVNDDqKIHxh4JVFNHALVRW3RH9KhVbFTrmEZkBHi1uYOoq1zzkuY6n_K8baMx1sHBK6-BkmCgwGON-bWwdKJDJfczSXFVRphnXK5jc5m_1AYx2ax8U-YZ/s320/4146_212494980005_796860005_6891160_4131353_n.jpg" border="0" /></a>overgrown dirt path that mail carriers used to ride along, whether it was by horse, or dog sled. The Cow Head Lighthouse trail took us past a current fishing village and into a climb through a mossy forested path, with a steep drop next to it, down to a rocky shoreline. The view from the look-out at the top of the trail was spectacular.<br /><br />Our last day in the Park was completed with our longest journey; the Trout River Pond. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4StHgTpZoEh2QN2g65LPCHebp1-Di-ksSKlgw-AkHDz2SUZ6D21FtmCcVMqdu3zDyFSwv1Tv8tur5pJTltOSTvbmXKeNS8vEZfQ2OP0E_2zqCfdqmTV3YSiWF956dkhOwp8KHE0VgtJng/s1600-h/pt+2+058.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347669118273774994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4StHgTpZoEh2QN2g65LPCHebp1-Di-ksSKlgw-AkHDz2SUZ6D21FtmCcVMqdu3zDyFSwv1Tv8tur5pJTltOSTvbmXKeNS8vEZfQ2OP0E_2zqCfdqmTV3YSiWF956dkhOwp8KHE0VgtJng/s320/pt+2+058.jpg" border="0" /></a>This meditativ<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1lH1Tq6VIZVzLqjEajtev0iSXy5J01X3CHf6DXRdbjuHXdkOKwEU0fKiFADO8p7eIxb4wEUoCfzkJ_owY_t0w7CS8MOU3WR0MDx7zMmcDbLjIHzLYfM0x43yOkjSiD0nljZwB8Y9lUkib/s1600-h/pt+2+060.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347669607158495234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 116px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1lH1Tq6VIZVzLqjEajtev0iSXy5J01X3CHf6DXRdbjuHXdkOKwEU0fKiFADO8p7eIxb4wEUoCfzkJ_owY_t0w7CS8MOU3WR0MDx7zMmcDbLjIHzLYfM0x43yOkjSiD0nljZwB8Y9lUkib/s320/pt+2+060.jpg" border="0" /></a>e and introspective hike (what a way to clear your head!) took my mom and I through a forest, onto a cobblestone beach, past thinning larch and juniper and onto the dry desert-like trail, with sparse alpine tundra flora. The last part of the trail was sided by rock, to keep us on our path, and ended with a pile of rocks. The most interesting part of the walk was that the other side of the Trout River Pond hosted a completely different ecosystem! While we were sitting on the baked orange rock eating our lunch, we were looking across the ravine to the other side that was dense with spruce trees and grey rock. After that refreshing yet wearying hike, we drove past the barren faces of the Tableland Mountains, through the forests of Woody Point, and out of the Park back to Deer Lake, in time for our flight back to Toronto the next day, despite the encounter my mom had with airport security, which involved tasting a bottle of Newfoundland Screech!peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-5070685440935634812009-05-06T11:50:00.000-07:002009-05-06T12:14:00.690-07:00The locavarian on a couch-a-tik<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVyHW5iqmOvAFziTAzVnlxP_I1hVEEToVLXub80vzr6yKe3i8foV3E0sbNPeZc4B7TN2m65oZCRuxm-m569mM-fQZ7qTrwsTVCTdxtUdTLiS6X-IXyYku4_0ROb3ntSd-9yca7mMFhsZVP/s1600-h/ptarmigan+winter.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332788982984335170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVyHW5iqmOvAFziTAzVnlxP_I1hVEEToVLXub80vzr6yKe3i8foV3E0sbNPeZc4B7TN2m65oZCRuxm-m569mM-fQZ7qTrwsTVCTdxtUdTLiS6X-IXyYku4_0ROb3ntSd-9yca7mMFhsZVP/s320/ptarmigan+winter.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div>I began training at the Churchill Regional Health Authority (aka the town’s hospital) as a “casual”, basically a back-up for any health care aides, ultrasound clerks, or home care services workers who cannot make it into work. Instead of being behind the wheel of a bus, or bundled with many layers of down and fleece on a snowmobile, I was clad in scrubs, striding up and down fluorescent halls. My time at the hospital was short, yet intense. I learned a great deal about clerical work, the workings of a northern ultrasound clinic, and of course, caring for our sick and elderly. It was a valuable lesson to me, how to keep a strong face in the presence of nasty substances, particularly those emitted from a human. Now, I won’t go into the repugnant details, but be sure to give extra credit and consideration to the nurses and health care aides who cross your path, whether now or later on in life. It is sometimes only they who see the most intimate and embarrassing details of one’s physiology.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKdbnZuMrEGIJeahk6tItPrvy4XSrwMRKPjGiIaKLsoZUmw2z0vZ9DOuFgPHvhAoXfvmq7MOHQY1Qp2Bfn2fWVe-kC9O9qyHRxcpwgwzNT3wmuyZXBYrjKu8t6ataw7MPh0FBMxOw2_m-/s1600-h/spring+001.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 284px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332785968358122322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKdbnZuMrEGIJeahk6tItPrvy4XSrwMRKPjGiIaKLsoZUmw2z0vZ9DOuFgPHvhAoXfvmq7MOHQY1Qp2Bfn2fWVe-kC9O9qyHRxcpwgwzNT3wmuyZXBYrjKu8t6ataw7MPh0FBMxOw2_m-/s320/spring+001.jpg" /></a><br />A fun social activity that I enjoyed doing this winter were poker derbies. These are done by snowmobile, or in my case in part, a four-wheeler with snow-tracks on it. Essentially, people man outposts, with bonfires to stay warm if it’s outdoors (as opposed to a cabin). These are supplemented with a deck of cards, and often with hotdogs and/or smokies, various snacks, tea, and of course beer. For one, we refurbished a komatik with a loveseat, a chair, a small coffee table, and an ashtray. This, we conveniently re-named the “couch-a-tik”, which acted<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2YLu-TzdP06TulSFDolYwhKIfJxYKH4G4VCnNj69YycdxddJcwkpUGftjalN4J0VROHRQnaU_FE-7o_DmXlGAeF73x369FJwguCrkLfLAoSI0T1s2N0bwsqQPTKiBHiS9iP3urDhhYPi/s1600-h/Watchee+044.jpg"></a> like an awesome fancy plough as it barreled <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0N_P_4N1mdA9IFiBa2yJIwrX23gdKtUyT5xorNzrkfz87VYgvbfT8tiGefhrhxbFW4R0xWBEYV4N_wQ0hyphenhyphenPE61_Gk2oocXoPdFLptBGRBsDcUb-YbzX7PsHemcN-EPmQ0YIU3tk9_eDK/s1600-h/Watchee+044.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332789823531249650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0N_P_4N1mdA9IFiBa2yJIwrX23gdKtUyT5xorNzrkfz87VYgvbfT8tiGefhrhxbFW4R0xWBEYV4N_wQ0hyphenhyphenPE61_Gk2oocXoPdFLptBGRBsDcUb-YbzX7PsHemcN-EPmQ0YIU3tk9_eDK/s400/Watchee+044.jpg" /></a>down the narrow paths, with sheets of slush flying up and onto the contraption, which made traveling on it a bit wet, to say the least.<br /><br />As spring brought warmer weather, meaning windchills that were no longer staying around -30 and below, the birds began to migrate back and through Churchill. The most celebrated of them being the Canada Goose. This spring, I witnessed the whole process of attaining a water fowl meal (goose), from the hunting to the lengthy process of plucking, gutting and the r<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZJ3DU5IqHXclmMkbV-zYw6q5ODE0bqf4tOtTU_gnFAnMYGVzjEZoupzos4Lqi8JY5i_2LTt5sNAU1wsIZRPxqTiZqVJf-Un_FpK-2bqZ4PdY-eZtOvcv23vHus04Qdpdi_0jHGrwxojz/s1600-h/goose+001.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332787264037253298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZJ3DU5IqHXclmMkbV-zYw6q5ODE0bqf4tOtTU_gnFAnMYGVzjEZoupzos4Lqi8JY5i_2LTt5sNAU1wsIZRPxqTiZqVJf-Un_FpK-2bqZ4PdY-eZtOvcv23vHus04Qdpdi_0jHGrwxojz/s320/goose+001.jpg" /></a>emoval of unnecessary appendages, then of course comes the seasoning and roasting… the rest you can imagine was similar to that of Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners… mmm, mmm. I just recently read an article in a magazine called Up Here, that coined the term “locavarian”, meaning one who eats local foods. I think that has applied to me; with the delicious hormone-free wild game of Canada’s North, to the organic strawberries and raspberries from Nova Scotia’s fields.</div></div></div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-51204796794659633052009-04-06T11:28:00.000-07:002009-05-11T20:01:50.085-07:00For the love of the Earth<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ98UZpuh89yzT95oIHt2n2oh-Yu0zJH78mXRkCCr6QcAxW2DwAifv-P0hABdCjHhgfxABqiHi66Dya_lJzUFxjnrGaWZle6E6DuTkFCm7lp2ww0SAuQIPyj2o56uMi6nJ_CdJhtR0ohVw/s1600-h/Birthday+033.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334767122302906818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ98UZpuh89yzT95oIHt2n2oh-Yu0zJH78mXRkCCr6QcAxW2DwAifv-P0hABdCjHhgfxABqiHi66Dya_lJzUFxjnrGaWZle6E6DuTkFCm7lp2ww0SAuQIPyj2o56uMi6nJ_CdJhtR0ohVw/s320/Birthday+033.jpg" /></a><br /><div>After the Earth Watch teams left, things were quieter at the Churchill Northern Studies Centre. After working with the teams and helping to maintain the other o<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSvQD4IrT4K_loNd4sY5xecKdp_sQXk3F4NxUP0bR43tO8y5fiQCYFmmdf_ObTrf2KZHpX1nQixO2teBtJri7O89CmusFF5UYLeOyf5hubZ42lDJySAUsS7ylkNWDa40pCbJMSPYXj7fU/s1600-h/YF+595.jpg"></a>ngoing research (mercury rain collector, radio waves analysis, geomagnetic forces) for other institutions, the three of us science ladies (Carley, Lee Ann and I) from the Centre took a trip to York Factory Nati<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBtfOM4acQ5F1CDBGlEBcKs9RBllmpNIJe0jBSVKmXZxkFuD7vdubHczTGERDNmOX0WHYTbFXzDvgoZ5ztsa-FFClX5X0mjYeW1AuRcGWcicetJDtWV5kMhITS9ig2dPESvOYQn8mbfRs/s1600-h/YF+040.jpg"></a>onal Historic Site, along with Leonard and Rodney, who were there as Parks Canada staff. We hopped on the train for a 12hr + train ride to Gillam, the next stop before Churchill going North on the rail line. It was a long rickety ride thanks to permafrost and undermaintained tracks, but the company I was with made it worthwhile. We spent the night at the only open motel in Gillam, which had the only restaurant in Gillam as well. Turns out that they closed the motel restaurant the night we were there, but thanks to the helicopter pilots we were flying with the next day, they invited us to their staffhouse for a bbq. A quick run to the grocery store and liquor mart made it into a fun little evening out.<br /><br />After an early rise the next day, which happened to be my birthday, we discovered that the Gillam motel restaurant was still closed yet. With no helicopter pilots to the rescue, we broke into the coolers we had packed for our trip and had a feast of peanut butter and jam on bread. A 1hr helicopter flight brought us to our destin<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjkoiKcQn0kxiiNGopRDgoas8P6i_hZhn6dMlm7Ys5FQBxWoBQi5GK-_TpEp8uEkl_A6OEn34HynHfCrek4HQuz-6tiwIc10lvuHa5O-vFVci_bmZq3yOUBdSegaFHTN9B4fcahqKF_H-x/s1600-h/YF+239.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332783240584174338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjkoiKcQn0kxiiNGopRDgoas8P6i_hZhn6dMlm7Ys5FQBxWoBQi5GK-_TpEp8uEkl_A6OEn34HynHfCrek4HQuz-6tiwIc10lvuHa5O-vFVci_bmZq3yOUBdSegaFHTN9B4fcahqKF_H-x/s320/YF+239.jpg" /></a>ation of the old Hudson Bay Company post called York Factory, now a National Historic Site. Us girls from the CNSC sampled snow for the better part of the afternoon before relaxing in the staffhouse. I was pleasantly surprised that evening with a sexy hubba hubba chocolate man-cake, fit with a banana, which I will leave to your dirty imaginations ;) While we were celebrating, the rest of the world, including my mom were lighting candles in honour of Earth Day – pretty cool, eh? Part of the York Factory historic buildings include the Depot, a big 2-story square-donut shaped building, with a lead roof. Inside, it is filled with artifacts, and reputed to be haunted (we checked at midnight, but as I expected, there was no evidence of ghosts).<br /><br />After three sunny days with brilliant blue skies wit helicopters flying back and forth, and after hundreds of photos taken with my new Nikon D60 (thank-you mom :), we flew by chopper back towards Gillam, and into a snowstorm, go figure! By then, the Gillam restaurant was open, and we were able to have a greasy meal, and hung-out in the motel until the train came late at night, back to Churchill.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJN_NDvBZGx-M-pXyNFhCmHE5kBnOTzd_XfuKdLanty3f5FabuCS0epQkdqvN0pHidt4PQa_-vGjijceLu945XUeUOAjNdZfUCJ23ZU0uRe564eNlPL8ECh4_KfkEowvF641JHxavCohL4/s1600-h/YF+184.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 208px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 141px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332782345494881826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJN_NDvBZGx-M-pXyNFhCmHE5kBnOTzd_XfuKdLanty3f5FabuCS0epQkdqvN0pHidt4PQa_-vGjijceLu945XUeUOAjNdZfUCJ23ZU0uRe564eNlPL8ECh4_KfkEowvF641JHxavCohL4/s320/YF+184.jpg" /></a><br />I had a few more days of work at the CNSC, but our trip to York Factory was indeed a grand finale to my seasonal contract with them.</div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-48715184879759924672009-03-06T06:45:00.001-08:002009-05-11T20:02:26.876-07:00The Great Big WhitesI met my mom and Brian in Kelowna, BC to ski 4 wonderful days at the Big White mountain resort in early February. It was a bit of a trek to get there: flight from Churchill to Winnipeg, overnight stay, flight to Vancouver to Kelowna, but I made it with all my gear, although one bag was on the next flight behind me from Vancouver because it had been accidentally unloaded by airport staff. My mom and brother arrived not long after I received my second bag. We were able to visit some friends who were working at the Lake Okanagan resort – Kelowna oddly enough is becoming the new Burlington, with the masses of people that I grew up with, who have now moved out West, particularly to this city.<br /><br />At the resort, we had a lovely co<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQev1YQY4T3pjLGXNRNZy03c7lW32ZMNIROg-A9EhHrM0YKecvmngKffooAuuPMs1C4uO28WcwIfBHGmYcOsx26NvNdPPVquAEAThgNRddki3-X4NC3uflMqjWPL5ssecerokF7FKOToO/s1600-h/Big+White+061.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310086475440104402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQev1YQY4T3pjLGXNRNZy03c7lW32ZMNIROg-A9EhHrM0YKecvmngKffooAuuPMs1C4uO28WcwIfBHGmYcOsx26NvNdPPVquAEAThgNRddki3-X4NC3uflMqjWPL5ssecerokF7FKOToO/s320/Big+White+061.jpg" /></a>ndo with all the amenities, slope-side. However, slope-side doesn’t mean that it’s down-ward sloping, as we huffed and puffed (usually twice a day) to ski-skate uphill through a tunnel, along a short path to the main hill that took us to the first lift. The good news was that coming back, it was all downhill. We were fortunate that there was a snow storm well-enough in advance of our arrival that the airport and roads were open and cleared, but the hill was covered in a fresh powder. Blue skies and warm temperatures for three days were bliss on the slopes. The fourth day was cloudy and snowy, but beggars can’t be choosers – we saw what Big White got its name from (a blanket of fog that covers the mountain). Coincidentally, some folks from the Cedar Springs Ski Club in Ontario were visiting friends and skiing while we were there, and one day unexpectedly bumped into them at the summit of the mountain. We joined them that evening for dinner at one of the mountainside restaurants, famous for its “shotgun coffee.” With lavish preparations, and us expecting a big bang, it was instead a silent stream of ignited booze trickling down the barrel of an old shotgun into our beverages.<br /><br />I stayed a few days in Burlington after our ski holiday, madly sorting, shopp<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXfQ-9njIXHm9r-0-nn1qtVgIvBRFce0vXFRz11_Gr05gPQ4zyOxYThUP6LQz9GZubgYd-kMsiNIU0-hLlpUI_lCCo-K5DQHaoqjMAfVe58u7aOvcN9a-jiEivAHmXe2yHl4CBs2VpZLC/s1600-h/P2190226.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310086994153297410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXfQ-9njIXHm9r-0-nn1qtVgIvBRFce0vXFRz11_Gr05gPQ4zyOxYThUP6LQz9GZubgYd-kMsiNIU0-hLlpUI_lCCo-K5DQHaoqjMAfVe58u7aOvcN9a-jiEivAHmXe2yHl4CBs2VpZLC/s320/P2190226.JPG" /></a>ing and going to appointments, before returning to the great white North. To my surprise, we had a new inhabitant of our house – a hedgehog! Leonard had brought this creature back from Winnipeg (with a stop in Gillam for a hockey tournament). Sure enough, it started escaping from its cage at night, and bee-lining for our bedroom. Our Houdini rodent continued to escape despite taping up the sides of the cage and the addition of plexiglass. That said, this nameless little animal has informally been given the name, “little bastard.”<br /><br /><br />Shortly after my return, I started as a research assistant for the Churchill Northern Studies Centre, a research base 20-something km outside of town (formerly a rocket range run by the military). My job included working closely with Earth Watch teams, which consist of individuals from all over the world. I maintained the snow machines, and pulled team m<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIP_AIOujqiGj6_7Ev91JGqUuem2CNMirFfytjWJ37t_ydJOcoBBevYE0on2HThsSm2CaziIETTG5fL0Kk0CgMawiaraGMX1O4B4DEJ_WY-UNZdT38j6iwk0Z9JnD4Jyb_raBNLOpXdrGy/s1600-h/EW.jpg"></a>embers behind me on a bone-jarring ride, with a komatik. Despite attempts to mitigate the pounding on snowdrift formations called zastrugi, passengers still feel as though they are about to rupture a disc. With many laughs and layers, we sampled snow in many different locations, looking at layers, density, depth, crystal types, and more. Samples by Adirondack snow core were taken back to the lab for investigating pH, conductivity and the like. Under the watch of a PhD candidate, teams sampled the branchlets of (black spruce) trees that spanned from the tundra to the forest. With over six dozen branchlets and their fragile needles, it took our team of 15 quite a bit of effort to get them measured, recorded, waxed, weighed, and into their appropriate slots for site/location/height, with some close calls along the way. Each day, all of these samples are weighed yet again, to measure the rate of moisture loss in the needles. Luckily, that isn’t my task, but for those unfortunate few who stay behind each morning to do it - I’m sure they’re dreaming numbers…peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-84904212645832786402009-01-22T16:22:00.000-08:002009-03-05T16:30:35.092-08:00Post Polar Bear Season<div><br /><div>It was a relief after bear season for Churchill to return its quiet Northern existence. I moved out of the North Star staffhouse and into a cozy 2-bedroom house with Leonard. With no obligations, I spent the next two weeks doing absolutely nothing: sleeping, watching HOUSE on DVD, taking Kona for walks and cracking down on her house manners. She managed to rapidly learn a few cute tricks like roll-over, spin in a circle, and shake a paw… but definitely not “come” or “stay” while she was outside. The little brat escaped over a snowdrift against the fence in our backyard a few times and gallivanted arou<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrfXzRtMa6LgVMAwWd4gB4c0RcZbPsRkeJ8cbv1hlcdW_VisUvHkJllIODU35LYDLFY9fR4R_xfGY30YFyhAppDWxRX0D_ZqH60uka2a62_A2Yrb_IvGl5bi2G3IUiYG8v-Cd8VxqYLuBw/s1600-h/PC270135.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309864513067760066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrfXzRtMa6LgVMAwWd4gB4c0RcZbPsRkeJ8cbv1hlcdW_VisUvHkJllIODU35LYDLFY9fR4R_xfGY30YFyhAppDWxRX0D_ZqH60uka2a62_A2Yrb_IvGl5bi2G3IUiYG8v-Cd8VxqYLuBw/s320/PC270135.JPG" border="0" /></a>nd town with the neighbourhood dogs on several occasions before we figured out what she was doing!<br />In no time, Christmas-time was approaching. Leonard and I took a trip to the old Dene village, which consists of the concrete bases of many small establishments within a boreal forest setting. Churchill had a fairly heavy snowfall, and the coniferous trees were weighted down by snow. With this in mind, we agreed to get a tamarack tree, a species that loses its needles for the winter. After finding the right tree, we tossed in the bed of the truck we had borrowed, and carried on back to town. It didn’t take long for us to lose the tree, as we hadn’t strapped it down at all… and had been driving for a ways before we realized it was gone! Luckily, Leonard had a <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIth_5xRoitiUTjNPbTtlICxPBYaU78gWEH2u5ms4uX3sD28y_BhFdFVfYVfIh_UcFi7xfCR7v4C54fg0HSFSVx27i911kVSqj2o8FOY2bjnjMT347yGADSeDxF1IWr9fOzbGhus1AKTA/s1600-h/Winter+08+09+012.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309864083064941554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIth_5xRoitiUTjNPbTtlICxPBYaU78gWEH2u5ms4uX3sD28y_BhFdFVfYVfIh_UcFi7xfCR7v4C54fg0HSFSVx27i911kVSqj2o8FOY2bjnjMT347yGADSeDxF1IWr9fOzbGhus1AKTA/s320/Winter+08+09+012.jpg" border="0" /></a>makeshift belt made out of string, which he took off in order to tie down the tree. It had to be adjusted once or twice again before we made it back to town, only 20 km or so from where we were! Having chosen a tamarack tree, we hadn’t realized that it would look rather scraggly in the context of our living room. The bare branches and lack of green made it look like it was out of a Charlie Brown Christmas cartoon, or the Nightmare Before Christmas movie, w<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8PfXrFXk45l6dda_bseScko6IPLkrx1xW8njHPpbXpFgR-hydqRVOmLwM2UhYSPoCv0SKPc-YGC9-WD6vdaTR903wad6Xt1lO9RAXC6J_qI3UGgSJn-0uStbJOeEYFPrBeAdIsMNVfqG3/s1600-h/PC240117.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309864957139537362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8PfXrFXk45l6dda_bseScko6IPLkrx1xW8njHPpbXpFgR-hydqRVOmLwM2UhYSPoCv0SKPc-YGC9-WD6vdaTR903wad6Xt1lO9RAXC6J_qI3UGgSJn-0uStbJOeEYFPrBeAdIsMNVfqG3/s320/PC240117.JPG" border="0" /></a>hich was rather funny.<br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>New Year’s Eve, Leonard and I went out to Goose Creek, a cottage subdivision, not far from the old Dene village. We hung out by a bonfire with some friends for a few hours, had some beers and some good laughs. A few fireworks were set off, accompanied by nature’s own light show, the aurora borealis. We carried on home not long after midnight, and after picking up Kona at home, continued to a house party in town.<br />I had bought myself a yellow Ski-Doo skandic, a hefty machine. One particularly beautiful day in January, I took Kona for a long run with the ski-doo, up and down town. On our way back, I stopped in at Home Hardware, her favorite spot, because the clerks behind the counter always gave her TLC and cookies! I could never walk past the store without her leash on, because whether or not it was closed, she would beeline to the door and wait to be let in for her treat. After I got home that day, we romped a bit in the snow, and while shoveling off my steps, she bounded off to visit her neighborhood canine friends. Unfortunately, after that wonderful day, it was the last time I saw Kona alive. Sadly, she was run over not long after, down the street and around the corner from our place. We cremated her later that week, and bid her a fond farewell.</div></div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-22446226662682496952008-11-11T16:01:00.000-08:002009-03-05T16:12:56.062-08:00Polar bear seasonBears typically come onto land in June, which is when the Hudson Bay has broken up considerably. Once on land, they are fattened up from eating seals and fish all winter and tend to lie low for the summer. However, once fall rolls around, the bears’ food reserves are getting low, and it is not easy for them to hunt on land, as they are more of a marine mammal than anything. This is when they migrate to Cape Churchill from their disembarking points (wherever they chose to leave the ice floes as they melt in the spring – they stay on the ice, to hunt seals for as long as they can). Cape Churchill is a piece of land geographically set-up in such a way that the ice forms here before a<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzYjg0i9he5R6xfDLquG1bZI8l4DEbDXMlKcCaBhVjbV8Zw_zIij3NsX3PKsILxVh1sQ3ITL6QlzU-uIDIzguJ37BnVQl0noD8BUiF9KNY9uB2ckQyi9KRZT1-qD0AwLIAEJVIKi-HlSBr/s1600-h/100_4205.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309860304810304834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzYjg0i9he5R6xfDLquG1bZI8l4DEbDXMlKcCaBhVjbV8Zw_zIij3NsX3PKsILxVh1sQ3ITL6QlzU-uIDIzguJ37BnVQl0noD8BUiF9KNY9uB2ckQyi9KRZT1-qD0AwLIAEJVIKi-HlSBr/s320/100_4205.JPG" border="0" /></a>nywhere else in the vicinity. The polar bears are eager to get back onto the ice and start hunting again. Cape Churchill is not far from the town of Churchill, so it is not surprising that all the enticing smells coming from town result in curious bears and a high density of these white furry visitors as well!<br />I returned to Churchill in October to work for North Star Tours as a bus tour guide and shuttle driver for “bear season”, which essentially runs from early October to late-November. It was a short work-term, but an extremely busy one! I worked literally 24-7, on-call. It was tiring, but exciting. Driving a little white mini-bus, I saw ample wildlife and met lots of interesting tourists from all over the world.<br />Essentially, my job was working alongside tour organizers such as Natural Habitat and Frontiers North, both which required shuttles to their tundra vehicles: Great White Bear and Tundra Buggy Tours, respectively. I gave these groups a tour of the town and area, as well as individual travelers (not part of a formal tour group). Churchill has a lot going for it, above and beyond the bears, which is I<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN-mhM6EWwLqjagPKhTgT6OwWaFD3SIwCIBkomZRxsgi5C41EaFXLCAgxf1SHItyN_X5Fy_QKEMZ54FE_YYNImkRIUz8tXPQogTEQQeyUf_LsVUm_OQt_5QbUiEDdWpIaUtCTwTGyVF2kO/s1600-h/100_4205.JPG"></a> elaborated on to a point on my tours. I learned a lot from the questions people asked me, my colleagues who have worked for North Star for several years, and from personal observation. Nearly all the people were wonderfully friendly and excited to be in Churc<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvQ-Z0Bqdxfo6cNMoKkrlMGFcwSVi09Osidt28EvLNPL41_mJSDwOhnthmir8RP8yDCs4EWt7efE0B3c53pdU44yag5OhQ9Zy8aQzKF23GOoR8uGnxBwqdLUGGHvezte6JwD_w0smdZhz/s1600-h/Churchill+Fall+2008+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309860630894998114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvQ-Z0Bqdxfo6cNMoKkrlMGFcwSVi09Osidt28EvLNPL41_mJSDwOhnthmir8RP8yDCs4EWt7efE0B3c53pdU44yag5OhQ9Zy8aQzKF23GOoR8uGnxBwqdLUGGHvezte6JwD_w0smdZhz/s320/Churchill+Fall+2008+013.jpg" border="0" /></a>hill, which was encouraging for me and gave me the extra push for the last week or two of my high-energy job. It took some determined driving in some treacherous conditions (near zero visibility, ice and snow drifts), getting stuck a few times along the way… but I made it through in one piece!<br />On a particularly snowy afternoon in early November, I was digging my bus out of a snow drift when I made an unexpected find: a little black puppy in the middle of the road! Seeing she was shivering and so young, I gathered her up in my arms (with her almost getting hit by a car in the meantime), and brought her into the staffhouse I was sharing with three roommates. We gave her the remainder of a caribou bone, which she attacked with fervor. Not sure what to do with this hungry black mutt, I found out later on that day that she was from a litter born under a house, not far from where I was living. S<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkeRjbxnorf5kSuU_UwOqTVkMscX5onEBeFPicyvF9_a2HpF79ySh5wjJs4tMaK44xa8gXuM2WmlTLU6WOblSanuf1TVp8f3ndNBxNSy3RZho3zefNf5pNVzLupWI21xeWNvj-uSkFjw5V/s1600-h/100_4199.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309859643133037842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkeRjbxnorf5kSuU_UwOqTVkMscX5onEBeFPicyvF9_a2HpF79ySh5wjJs4tMaK44xa8gXuM2WmlTLU6WOblSanuf1TVp8f3ndNBxNSy3RZho3zefNf5pNVzLupWI21xeWNvj-uSkFjw5V/s320/100_4199.JPG" border="0" /></a>eeing a potential bleak future for this sweet creature, I decided to keep her, and with help from a roommate, named her Kona; Cree for “lots of snow.”<br />Kona proceeded to accompany for the rest of bear season on some of my shuttles. She was very popular among the people who traveled with us, but preferred to curl up on my lap and sleep while I drove to our destination. She was excellent company while waiting some cold nights for a Great White Bear buggy to return from its evening tour, and an angel with everyone who wanted to kiss and ruffle her soft puppy coat. People looked forward to seeing Kona and I, their dynamic driver and companion! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbQGG3WgvTiIXx5HQ-1EQbXNxma4fP1GDgizzTc6ohkVDtJTfVWhs491sit0_NxuSTEkFChB56RCBQx8mi1IZmdyxkfbBzXUzLp6c1ERucyZEc9x2zxrr8ELsPoTvIXUCb4PvmFlskuSdi/s1600-h/100_4199.JPG"></a><br />She may have been well-behaved on the bus, but she certainly was trouble in the house! Aside from the usual puppy behaviour of crying, chewing things and having accidents, she thought it humorous to snatch each of my roommates’ underwear on several occasions and run downstairs for all to see! She also had a tendency of taking off upstairs and leaving a mortifying steaming “surprise” for each of them in their rooms, before I knew what was happening. She also managed to find a squeeze bottle of purple paint, which she squirted all over our carpet in the middle of the living room… Needless to say, everybody learned to keep their doors shut while Kona was loose in the house!peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-5850034722176737232008-08-07T15:58:00.000-07:002009-03-05T16:00:28.560-08:00Keji 2008: Christmas in July<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP6GLWCdjFVDKCsCNR2JpVfmV98b6bpWsHWwENZ15krk31phGfneIM0BMEin4PaD6t9pvE7ecFh1olRPEqcusCgJ7GscFs1FVHfIEvp7kN9MVZTWPBzXbpGA-KSPOq7AjjELHqlb-oBeQ5/s1600-h/East+467.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301694099925108626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP6GLWCdjFVDKCsCNR2JpVfmV98b6bpWsHWwENZ15krk31phGfneIM0BMEin4PaD6t9pvE7ecFh1olRPEqcusCgJ7GscFs1FVHfIEvp7kN9MVZTWPBzXbpGA-KSPOq7AjjELHqlb-oBeQ5/s320/East+467.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Keji has not only the well put-together species at risk program that I am a part of, but also an extensive interpretive schedule. Every day and evening there are different interpretive events – the evening programs especially, are quite entertaining (I’ve made a point of going to all of them).<br />On July 25th, we had a Christmas in July bbq/potluck at our place… or at least we tried to! Only two people showed up, and not for long, so the three of us headed over to the evening program that night (which my supervisor and another interpreter were in)… to make the evening a bit more interesting, I dressed up as an elf, complete with pointy paper ears, a toque, tights and bright red crocs, and paid a surprise visit to them on stage (I popped up in front of the crowd and wished the two of them a happy Christmas in July, and gave them burgers!)<br />The park had its 39th Birthday on August 2nd, a day full of birthday festivities. I ran one station (of four) as part of a special walk in honour of the birthday, where two team members (one blindfolded) find a tree in the forest, which was fun to watch. How it worked: the blindfolded person was led by the other team member to a tree in the forest, the person feels the tree and is led back to the starting point, the blindfold is re<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE4sX32J3hbFU3_WSQv_0Ok3XQaxUNVeCro1w3QvVbPF4hVsU313Gdz-PAmBmEAQXfPy2VOjJhSCj8j9aKPjM7p1mAzgdiOGVL5OH484A2LO5VyfWTda8863zh1ILdFU9S7SsC8WXd7q6X/s1600-h/bertha2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301694353352121410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE4sX32J3hbFU3_WSQv_0Ok3XQaxUNVeCro1w3QvVbPF4hVsU313Gdz-PAmBmEAQXfPy2VOjJhSCj8j9aKPjM7p1mAzgdiOGVL5OH484A2LO5VyfWTda8863zh1ILdFU9S7SsC8WXd7q6X/s320/bertha2.jpg" border="0" /></a>moved and that person (without help) has to find the tree they were led to, based on touch. That evening, I took part in a species at risk play on the beach: Campsite Crime Scene Investigation (CCSI). My role was minimal, but very important because Bertha the shy Black Bear (me) came forward at the last minute to reveal the sneaky condo developer who crushed the piping plover eggs. It was a riot to watch and take part in!<br />Lately, the conditions have been favourable for snakes, and I’ve caught a couple of Eastern Ribbon Snakes, a Threatened species. These are black, with three yellow stripes down their back, and spend a lot of their time on the water’s edge or in the water. The snakes themselves are not very big (about the width of your index finger, with even smaller heads), and are very tricky to find and catch (cryptic). There’s only estimated to be about a hundred of them in the main area of the park, called Grafton Lake. Snakes, having no arms or legs are very difficult to permanently mark. The least invasive way to mark these ones has been to clip certain scales on their bellies to identify individuals, the codes only lasting for about a year or two (depending on the frequency that the snake sheds), which makes population estimates even more difficult. There’s so little known about this species, that everything we are collecting from the habitat they live in, to individual characteristics contribute to a greater understanding of these animals and how to better protect them.<br />Another snake related project that I am helping with is using coverboards. These are squares of varying material that have been placed in various areas where snakes have been known to inhabit. Not much luck yet, but we’ve been experimenting with plywood, metal, shingles, landscape fabric, and soon, cotton t-shirts. It’s being done for an undergrad thesis project, to see if snakes prefer a certain type of cover, in what kind of habitats, what species use them and in what temperature range. Data collection is the most important thing for all of the research that gets done… so lots of writing on data cards, pictures and measurements need to be done (even if we don’t find anything). What we may not find useful now, might be useful one day, for another project in the future. </div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-7986383277029188342008-07-05T15:55:00.000-07:002009-03-05T16:00:00.772-08:00Keji 2008: Sponge Bobbie Squarejacket<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1A37ecKy11Uk62NY4K7fpqIZ_BYCPsoRIy3sZ50FmShtpv5HdlrZAv7GbEznCQehrPeJjZvWyx_IKlMKMkizPm7YfAn2uLpHPlt6yZPcRnzSRKIdOg-zYDR8bliCthPRdYPiAWGOwGQw_/s1600-h/canoe+rescue.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301693142874361458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1A37ecKy11Uk62NY4K7fpqIZ_BYCPsoRIy3sZ50FmShtpv5HdlrZAv7GbEznCQehrPeJjZvWyx_IKlMKMkizPm7YfAn2uLpHPlt6yZPcRnzSRKIdOg-zYDR8bliCthPRdYPiAWGOwGQw_/s320/canoe+rescue.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>June has come and gone, and interpretive programs are now in full-swing! June was a busy month with preparations for summer interpretive programs and Blanding’s turtles were nesting. These turtles are really neat in that once the females mature, they continue to go back to the same site to nest year after year. Volunteers and staff go out nightly for the month, and if a turtle is sighted and lays her eggs, the nest is protected from predators with an enclosure. Hatchlings will come out in the fall, and researchers will monitor the nests once again so that they can mark and release them. Watching the Blanding’s turtles nest was a unique experience. The turtles go into a trance once they start laying their eggs, and become oblivious to all else around them. They lay typically around 10 eggs, and the whole process takes a few hours. First, she digs a hole, then lays her eggs (each time she lays one, her head juts way out, then back into her shell to squeeze the egg out), then she covers the eggs and conceals the nest so that it is practically indistinguishable from the surrounding surface. Afterwards, people sit around the campfire with a beer and snacks, which sometimes happens at a pretty late hour depending on when the turtles have finished nesting for the night.<br />I took a canoe training course – a level B certification is necessary for doing interpretive paddles. It was a fun day of practicing different strokes and movements in the canoe. The best part was the canoe rescue and in-water portion of the course. If a canoe is submerged, one of the methods to get it to shore is to get in it, full of water, and paddle back, which was a lot of fun! Only, I didn’t realize how large my PFD was, and after I jumped out of the canoe, the back part went right up over my head so that from behind, I looked like a relative of Sponge Bob… Sponge Bobbi Squarejacket!<br />My first Snake n’ Bake, Shell Raisers and Pirates of the Kejimkujik went smoothly, and the rest of the summer is looking promising. Snake n’ Bake is a hike on snakes of Nova Scotia, with an emphasis on the threatened ribbon snake. Shell Raisers is a paddle on turtles of K<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjas008y-Sl9EUaWch8bf7UHlJM4iprSLNyM6s2ReH7ojJ9rmgTn18OwrNxnBuZaDDgTyhTDaMx9ZMj0inLa67URxNzTe2lyOZju-e6wcbDPix4x43yj3MLdUL0pP3ltdk0qjuU2k0lNRVG/s1600-h/pirates5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301694799165729202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjas008y-Sl9EUaWch8bf7UHlJM4iprSLNyM6s2ReH7ojJ9rmgTn18OwrNxnBuZaDDgTyhTDaMx9ZMj0inLa67URxNzTe2lyOZju-e6wcbDPix4x43yj3MLdUL0pP3ltdk0qjuU2k0lNRVG/s320/pirates5.jpg" border="0" /></a>eji, with a focus on Blanding’s turtle research, and finally Pirates is a kids paddle (we sing YO HO, YO HO, A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME as loud as we can, or at least we try to get the kids to sing along!)<br />I’ve been out with researchers, learning more about their turtle and ribbon snake research. There was one day I went for a paddle with a turtle researcher doing GPS logging. We had gone up a brook and reached a point where logs were blocking our progress. I hopped out, and when it was time to get back in… I ended up teetering and falling into the brook – well, it was refreshing anyhow!<br />Recently, we had a big event at Keji – Blanding’s turtle release day! With over 200 people, the media and important people from all over, I ended up being part of the camera and bbq crew. I swear, I’ve never cooked so many burgers or hotdogs in my life! I was throwing hamburgers on the grill like Frisbees and yelling out “who wants hot dogs!!” to the mile-long line up for food! Turns out most people prefer hamburgers… The event was to celebrate the release of 34 Blanding’s who had been captively reared for the last 2 years (given lots of food and warmth to increase their growth and consequently their survival rates). We’ll be keeping track of their progress with radio transmitters over the summer.<br />I had a lovely weekend with my aunt Diane – we started off at old friends, the Kidson’s organic farm in Centreville, stayed overnight on their refurbished sailboat in the Dartmouth harbor right by the ferry terminal, toured Halifax, Peggy’s Cove and Hubbards. We visited my grandfather’s grave, shopped at Mountain Equipment Co-op and the market, sat at cafés sipping lattes, drove along the coast to Hubbards, strolled around Peggy’s Cove, and rode the ferry across the harbor with a gorgeous sunset, it was quite the weekend! </div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-11143780388595472702008-06-04T15:53:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:58:46.404-08:00Keji 2008: for the shell of it<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHQpoHLuuyw16n3ZBVxi7Vydy1ABb2aFAIO_P0Wt7rVIJDl40tdqbLICSTO8fnbIJYj_o4ODEmLZKlYVgQ2a1bzkDaMFu45oGpkYVl72H8kgbzMJ4MMFwaS4Leb_NqrcHPeDya4uJnzYaJ/s1600-h/East+265.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301692574016586466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHQpoHLuuyw16n3ZBVxi7Vydy1ABb2aFAIO_P0Wt7rVIJDl40tdqbLICSTO8fnbIJYj_o4ODEmLZKlYVgQ2a1bzkDaMFu45oGpkYVl72H8kgbzMJ4MMFwaS4Leb_NqrcHPeDya4uJnzYaJ/s320/East+265.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><strong>Turtle Trivia:</strong> For those of you who don’t know what the Blanding’s turtle looks like, they have a black shell, with yellow speckles, a yellow throat and underbelly. They are a bit larger than painted turtles and do occur in certain regions of Ontario in addition to this small region in Nova Scotia. They are classified as endangered in Nova Scotia, but threatened nation-wide. I find it neat that Blanding’s turtles (and all other turtle) females have flat bellies, whereas the males have a convex belly – why is this… well, turtles have to procreate too, don’t they! Having a shell can make things awkward, so the shape of the underbelly aids in mating. There are other ways to tell males and females apart, but in addition to the shape of their bellies, the size of the tail and location of their cloaca (universal bum-reproductive hole) are the best indicators (they can breathe through that hole too). Blanding’s turtles don’t reach maturity until they are around 21 years old, and can live to be over 80. Those who actually survive that long don’t stop reproducing until death -there are no golden years for the turtle…<br />Hey, I think the park interpreter in me is taking over… I may be shoving too many facts your way in this email! However, it’s been enlightening getting into the mindset of an interpreter… those of us in science don’t realize how little the general public actually knows about scientific genre. I particularly realized this after a group of high school biology students came to visit for the day. Such as many people don’t know what a species at risk is, yet it’s such common knowledge for many of us who have taken biology (by the way, it means that the survival of a group of living things is at stake). We can prattle on about permeability of oxygen through derma in an anuran, when all people really want to know is that it simply means that frogs breathe through their skin. It’s taken some work to take a few steps back in order to explain things in a simpler way, and make it interesting too!<br />One thing that this province has, that I’ve never experienced elsewhere is… ticks!! You wouldn’t believe how many ticks I have gotten on my body since I’ve been here! The girls I live/work with call me a tick magnet, since they can’t believe how many get on me. Is there Lyme disease here? Yes! So, I check myself thoroughly after each day out in the field… I even found one that was a little too close for my liking to a rather sensitive region of my body!<br />I spent a weekend with a friend, Krisi and her husband, Marcus, both whom I hadn’<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfUHtdDQhD0TmEvKLeDZOxxVIwwzeBKZn38oDw0ZSQyaTjfhK44eyqG2uCDpsm55wY0V5R-Y9xbQHu8g4bReFenZoH90q1IzCkE6pjRjpHwc4YLfd8Kdzq0nxNSGbcQr2udpeh4VGCbYE/s1600-h/East+114.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301695354194630562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfUHtdDQhD0TmEvKLeDZOxxVIwwzeBKZn38oDw0ZSQyaTjfhK44eyqG2uCDpsm55wY0V5R-Y9xbQHu8g4bReFenZoH90q1IzCkE6pjRjpHwc4YLfd8Kdzq0nxNSGbcQr2udpeh4VGCbYE/s320/East+114.jpg" border="0" /></a>t seen in years. They have a beautiful farm near Tatamagouche (about a 3 hr drive from where I am), which overlooks the Northhumberland Strait (right across from Prince Edward Island), with ten horses, four cats and four dogs. It was so great to see them both again, and with even hopped on one of her young horses – a gray, named Revenge. I’m sure I’ll be visiting again as the summer goes on!<br />Those of us involved with the turtle research got some entertainment recently, when we fed the blanding’s turtles in the Visitor’s Centre some live minnows. Their necks are surprisingly long, and for at least ten minutes, we all stood there watching the little turtles swim with all their might, with their necks stretched out as far as they could go, after the minnows: back and forth in the tank, crashing into the sides of it, and rocks within. After finally catching a minnow, it was carnage… shredded fish bits as the turtles use their front claws to tear at the food in their mouths (turtles don’t have teeth), but interesting to watch… well, at least I think it’s pretty cool! We’ve started to introduce live food to the turtles, to prepare them for their release into the wild later on this summer.<br />One of the researchers found an unmarked Blanding’s turtle crossing the road, which was pretty exciting… unmarked? It means that the turtle didn’t have notches engraved into certain scutes (like scales, there are 12 on either side) of her carapace (upper shell). I was able to take her into the local research facility, called the Mersey Tobeatic Research Institute (MTRI), and went through the works of how we monitor and keep track the Blanding’s turtles. Notches were put in with a type of nail file, so that she can be identified if caught again in the future. Her plastron (belly shell) was scanned by a flatbed scanner for pictorial reference. Turtles have rings of growth, like a tree and each is unique to the individual like a fingerprint to us. Various measurements of length, height and weight, as well as blood sampling for genetic analyses are part of the work-up. She was even outfitted with a radio transmitter, glued onto her shell by epoxy, so that researchers can track her movements in the future. I’ll be doing a fair bit of catching and data collecting on the Blanding’s turtles in the park, but who’s to say how many have yet to be found for the first time!<br />Well… back to ‘shellraising’ around here! (by the way, Shellraisers is the name of the interpretive paddle I’m giving this summer... it is focused on the turtles of Nova Scotia) </div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-7796287722616622122008-05-22T15:51:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:58:01.689-08:00Keji 2008: fire, land, and water<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPQyYKW7kPtCcvBA6IkFJiN-MD5chHxga_bJNBbdkT1wG5Z3y33vwjNpixOoTJa8Y2AIZDXpIEUr_xu9zP8wXMNxcEWwtOqawJkQsH_2Y9t0G87vDgNVAndXjG3lDiGC_3F6g_NpkqRhB/s1600-h/East+060.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301692112361068290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPQyYKW7kPtCcvBA6IkFJiN-MD5chHxga_bJNBbdkT1wG5Z3y33vwjNpixOoTJa8Y2AIZDXpIEUr_xu9zP8wXMNxcEWwtOqawJkQsH_2Y9t0G87vDgNVAndXjG3lDiGC_3F6g_NpkqRhB/s320/East+060.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Kejimkujik has a seaside adjunct, which is not part of the main park, but rather just over an hour’s drive away. It is right on the Atlantic coast, with white sand beaches and turquoise water. I got to spend the entire day at the seaside adjunct, with a number of other staff (new and old), which was awesome. Cormorants were seen drying their outstretched wings on rocks, and harbor seals basking on another. The day included an interpretive hike, lunch on the beach, and observations of the piping plover, a shore bird that is at risk in Nova Scotia. We were with a warden, who took the group onto the protected plover beach (closed to the public). We saw a number of pairs, and discovered a nest near the lagoon (where salt water runs in behind sand dunes, a very productive area) I’ve always been a fan of the ocean, and can’t wait to go back!<br />I got my first taste of Keji’s backcountry when I went out with one of the scientists to investigate a wetland area – we wanted to see if it was a fen or a bog, for water quality samples, data logging, etc. Him and I had to drive about a half hour along this unmaintained gravel road to a portage point. From there, we had to canoe to a location by gps that was taken from a satellite prior to the trip (but satellites can’t tell if an area is a fen or a bog). We had lunch in the canoe, in the middle of a lake so quiet that the loon calls were amplified all around. It was pretty neat! Unfortunately, the wetland turned out to be a fen (has different vegetation and less water in it than a bog), and we had to return with all our gear and no samples.<br />Keji’s visitor centre has four “head start” blanding’s turtles, which means hatchlings of these endangered species are incubated so that they mature quicker and have a head start in comparison to their counterparts in the wild. These turtles have to be hand fed every other day, which means they have to be separated and put in individual enclosures outside of their tank. They get fed frozen fish concoctions (scraped into slivers with a razor), and fish food. It’s interesting to watch them, and I have to hang around until they are done feeding, to put them back into their large tank and get fresh water from the lake for the next feeding. Blanding’s turtles are about the same size as the common painted turtle, but has a black shell with yellow speckles and a yellow throat/underbelly. I will be doing various things related to the blanding’s turtle this summer, and have been learning lots about their ecology etc.<br />Over the long weekend, I went out for a paddle with a few people from the area – 3 canoes. We left around 10:15pm, paddled for about 2hrs on the Kejimkujik Lake, with a portage in the middle. Canoeing on the Keji lake at night was a completely different experience. The water, already naturally dark from tannins leached from the surrounding wetlands, looked black. It looked to me like I was canoeing on top of an oil spill, and could vaguely see the ripples of the water ahead. The only sounds I could really hear were crickets and the lapping of the water, which was really peaceful. At one point, the moon was clear of clouds and was amazing with its reflection on the water.<br />At one end of the park, a few km’s from the visitor’s centre is an old fish hatchery, right on the Grafton River and wetland. Park interpreters and heritage presenters share this pretty old building. The fish hatchery was there before the park came into existence (back in 1967, the hatchery itself in the 1930’s). The surrounding area is a prime site for blanding’s turtles, ribbon snakes and coastal plain flora – all species at risk and this is where my office is located! It is complete with a document library, kitchen, and a fabulous view. The house I’m staying in is just beyond the entrance to the park, by the warden and ecologist buildings. There will be six of us, three rooms… one bathroom.<br />I had a very easy going and pleasant day with a few other parks staff at a place called the Stone Bear Lodge, on the Bear River Reserve, nearby the park. It is run by a retired Mi’kmaw chief more or less as a retreat. The day consisted of reflective talks, sage snuffing, sitting around a wood fire, interpretive walks with insight into a native view of nature and wildlife. The place was beautiful, with a lush mossy cedar/pine forest, and a brook running through it. There were several teepees and log cabins for various uses, including a traditional sweat house. All of us were somewhat surprised at how the atmosphere brought out a different side to us, revealing personal and sometimes emotional details that we often wouldn’t share with strangers, with a serene calming effect associated with it. It was like a trance came over us once a feather was passed, and words just flow out while everyone else listened and reflected. Afterwards, everyone felt refreshed and at peace with the world. This experience I had just goes to show that all of us can get quite caught up in the fast pace of the world, worry about the future, dwell in the past, but not so much live in the moment. A piece of advice to all of you – take some time out for yourself, and reflect.<br /><br /></div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-6834983579991994882008-05-15T15:48:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:57:12.064-08:00Keji 2008: the end of an era<div><br /><br /><br /><div>With summer rapidly approaching, and many changes in my life as of late, it’s about time that I sent an update around to all of you! Since I sent out my final Wapusk update last August, I’m sure you can imagine that much has happened since then. Leaving off from way back in August 2007, it was a long drive home, from Thompson, Manitoba to Guelph, Ontario, for more reasons than I care to elaborate on in this email. Yet, it was a pretty one, with the coniferous forest and natural landscapes on each side of our Northern route, instead of the mass urbanization seen in Southern Ontario. No doubt, it took some getting used to, back in the old routine at home, although wonderful to see family and friends again. Not long after I arrived home, I moved into an apartment with one of my previous roommates, Jill, for our fourth year at U of Guelph. We had a great time living together, with I admit, more fun and games than any other year. These final two semesters as an undergrad flew right past, and I can officially say that I have a Bachelor of Science degree, with honours in Zoology, and a minor in Psychology. What a good feeling, to be done after a stretch of 20 or so years of school. I’ve said good-bye to the good friends I made throughout university, whom I consider friends for life. I’ve come to realize that this is the end of an era… there is so much more to be seen and done in this world, so many new people to meet and a new chapter to begin in life.<br />Anyways, back to what I was up to over the last few months… Over the Christmas holidays, I returned to Churchill f<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLraY1JjCjdR01EPc_mU16C0ProD0TjgkBSpuVSCknzMjM_Qysig-HFgGUkWS-TpCbTD-qkAwaU9qXlWnPOSbq82q6AhjoXfN36zgsixGTRLkxtPqsYoPMq1bW99mUe1gaPPgBxkQEIm2/s1600-h/Churchill+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301696519062419826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLraY1JjCjdR01EPc_mU16C0ProD0TjgkBSpuVSCknzMjM_Qysig-HFgGUkWS-TpCbTD-qkAwaU9qXlWnPOSbq82q6AhjoXfN36zgsixGTRLkxtPqsYoPMq1bW99mUe1gaPPgBxkQEIm2/s320/Churchill+008.jpg" border="0" /></a>or 2 weeks. Returning was like coming home again, the familiar faces and company was awesome. The town and the people may have been familiar, yet the winter season there was a whole new experience. Daily temperatures of -25 and below kept me in 4+ layers, top and bottom, but certainly not indoors. The scenery was of course white with snow, barren and beautiful. Most of the days were sunny, and the air clean and crisp. The Churchill River was frozen over by then, and the belugas and polar bears gone. Yet, there were still some hardy animals that stuck out winter in the area. By four-wheeler and snowmobile, Leonard and I were able to cross the river to hunt ptarmigans (Arctic chickens), keeping warm with Baileys and tea. Ptarmigan was not the only interesting meat I had during my stay. Canada goose from the fall hunting season, Arctic Char from North of Churchill, and caribou steaks were part of the menu too. One weekend, three of us spent at a cabin in the bush, to hunt caribou. It was there, that I shot a caribou, for the first time! It was shot with a rifle that had a scope, something I’d never used before. The cabin we stayed in was small, but cozy with its wood stove. We melted ice from the river, to drink, and ate meals of fried balogne and potatoes, a hearty meal that tastes the best only in the bush. Spending time completely in the wilderness took some getting used to, but I believe I’m hooked – I can’t wait until the next time I get to spend a few days in isolation. Those two weeks up North were over in no time, and it was once again I left the arctic for the South, and look forward to returning again.<br />In March, Leonard came to visit in Southern Ontario, all the way from near Yellowknife, NWT. The three weeks he spent here were filled with activity. From nightlife in Guelph, to skiing in Ellicotville, New York, visiting in Burlington/Waterloo, Toronto Rock Lacrosse and the Toronto Hockey Hall of Fame, an NHL game in Ottawa, and a visit to the Museum of Civilization, in the Gatineau of Quebec, Leonard got the whole 9 yards of this part of Canada! We had a great time, and his visit was a great distraction from that last drag of university :) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8bwPbIVhdcaus-ybrPxyDttPSfjjNVpNsuoTtDxkpnYAci2wuozEU54pyX4aTACLPFUZQjXmSEJ4vVGul5ybhpW0i5rj4-yaCOw4KTspy7lxCJ8USi-JF-0l8Mcpzz8OfkmgQIz55pqvB/s1600-h/hockey.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301695953213898018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8bwPbIVhdcaus-ybrPxyDttPSfjjNVpNsuoTtDxkpnYAci2wuozEU54pyX4aTACLPFUZQjXmSEJ4vVGul5ybhpW0i5rj4-yaCOw4KTspy7lxCJ8USi-JF-0l8Mcpzz8OfkmgQIz55pqvB/s320/hockey.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I said good-bye to Melody at the end of March, since she has been contracted on a year’s lease to a very kind woman, named Denise. Denise aims to enjoy having a horse, and riding dressage at an immaculate private farm, not far from Guelph. I have no doubt that Melody will be in the best of care, and will be absolutely lavished with love during her stay. It will be a welcome and different lifestyle not being in the saddle, or rather an equestrian saddle, for a year. I plan to be in the seat of a mountain bike - I have yet to break it in, but I look forward to the adventures I hope to have with this cool new bike. I never thought that I would be giving up riding to any extent, but it just goes to show that life goes on and things change.<br />After exams, I went back to Manitoba for 2 weeks. The first weekend, in the Forks of Winnipeg. The Forks was a well-landscaped national historic site right in the heart of the city by the river. It was a somewhat busy weekend shopping and visiting others in the city, but fun! I was lucky to have had another chance to party with people from Churchill, at a wedding, which of course was a good time. After the wedding weekend, I flew to Flin Flon, Manitoba to visit with Leonard. I was in this mining town that sits on the border of Manitoba and Saskatchewan for the next couple of days. I took the time there to relax, sleep, and enjoy reading novels, watching movies and just hanging out in a quiet place, for a change. On one of those days, we took a day trip to Wanless and the Pas, which are other towns not far from Flin Flon, visited people along the way. I was in Ontario for a few days after my trip, to speak at a conference for VOICE for hearing impaired children. Shortly after, Jill and I drove East, to Nova Scotia. We stopped in Montreal to say hi to Stu (cousin) and Matt (old neighbor), stopped for lunch in Quebec City, saw the famous rocks on the Bay of Fundy (<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMqM_6FyAPc3sT1aKbZCKXGDOq87Elq-A4R4oFtp_Mu0y4pkjufk1C5WEfTJRWIJ8YrGVHH1rdDVN9LXTxSywLbnRCjJ_tUi6bo1XTiBA1ru2hekUGc4e2aLOBoor4VgARjIUyAVIcwkWL/s1600-h/12.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301691553988605746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMqM_6FyAPc3sT1aKbZCKXGDOq87Elq-A4R4oFtp_Mu0y4pkjufk1C5WEfTJRWIJ8YrGVHH1rdDVN9LXTxSywLbnRCjJ_tUi6bo1XTiBA1ru2hekUGc4e2aLOBoor4VgARjIUyAVIcwkWL/s320/12.jpg" border="0" /></a>not far from Fundy National Park), took a ferry from St. John, New Brunswick to Digby, Nova Scotia and drove to Kejimkujik National Park.<br />So yes, this summer I will be at Kejimkujik National Park! I will be taking part in various research on species at risk in the park, and interpretive hikes/paddles. My first few days have been basically an introduction to the park and its people. It has a rather large staff for a park of its size, but naturally everyone is quite friendly. On my first day, my boss took myself and a few others on a canoe excursion on one of the rivers. It just so happened that it was a rather windy day, and being an inexperienced paddler with a flat-bottomed canoe, myself and a colleague, Heather, fought to keep the canoe upright… yet sure enough, the wind caught the edge of the canoe and the canoe tipped right over on top of me! It was somewhat of a shock going into not so warm water, but funny more than anything.<br />Geez… I’ve practically written a novel here, and have so much more to tell, but I’ll save that for another time. Take care guys!</div></div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-31097411709576844652007-08-15T15:45:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:49:29.582-08:00Wapusk 2007: living life to its fullest<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlM_t94hOSB3CRsSjMjUlilsaJSITFvMoAeCUomMRNHeFXN8itHNBoN3xdSLwTJwqt4dt9Dxe3WvhnUuzEGpJ-9uxHN6hwmUJX9SJVWaxt9xflnnQolVZ8W9HsgxJhnSMGoGSTKs7pZY7/s1600-h/AE+course,+PWF+022.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301690602499015954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlM_t94hOSB3CRsSjMjUlilsaJSITFvMoAeCUomMRNHeFXN8itHNBoN3xdSLwTJwqt4dt9Dxe3WvhnUuzEGpJ-9uxHN6hwmUJX9SJVWaxt9xflnnQolVZ8W9HsgxJhnSMGoGSTKs7pZY7/s320/AE+course,+PWF+022.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Well, it’s only a few more days until I leave Churchill! Countdown until I return to the apparent record heat waves from the cool sub-arctic.<br /><br />After the course, I was glad to return to work, and to have my evenings free once again, but not so happy I had to say good-bye to my new friends. The students and researchers taking the train came into town on the Saturday to explore, and have one last dinner together. We went out to the Lazy Bear Lodge, and I tried musk ox for the first time. This was where some of the students gave an odd gift to the teaching assistant, Kevin. It was half of a chain mail glove, likely with some relation to the medieval era. When turned upside down with the two fingers hanging, it was rather peculiar looking (see pictures on Kodak gallery to get a better idea of what it looked like).<br /><br />My week at work was a mixture of random projects not related to bug collection, for my boss. It was nice to have my attention focused on Parks-related matters for a change, even if it meant sitting in the office on a nice day. One of the things he had me do was count the number of caribou in this picture taken of a large herd from a helicopter. My estimate after several counts was over 2900 animals. It was rather a challenge because the picture was not very clear, and was taken from an angle, but I made do!<br /><br />A friend of mine lost a dog across the river. We spent an evening searching for Scruffy (a little poodle) by boat, while whales and seals were playing all around us. Not such a bad way to spend the evening! Turns out we found Scruffy at the quarry seven days after he ran away (more about this later). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZDpmbiJPvvEMUvWpnDZBWqlTnlTvgg79lwLYHDTvY7h7xYTdMAILnqVM6FWySt8-s9E3aPHl4Oj9Y1IS69tIF1noNC7A-lVQlaFJ0C_WkjOgYdvdxsOEqhH4yLujv9YoDuiSzTXCJQtu/s1600-h/Churchill+047.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301696987933421090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZDpmbiJPvvEMUvWpnDZBWqlTnlTvgg79lwLYHDTvY7h7xYTdMAILnqVM6FWySt8-s9E3aPHl4Oj9Y1IS69tIF1noNC7A-lVQlaFJ0C_WkjOgYdvdxsOEqhH4yLujv9YoDuiSzTXCJQtu/s320/Churchill+047.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My long weekend was filled with adventures – nights out in town, and cruising around made it go by quickly. I visited a building called the golf balls, which has these large fiberglass covered spheres on top. It is now abandoned, but once used for radiotelemetry or something of the sort, long ago. Inside, there were lots of strange equipment and shiny material that it looked like it was the remnants of a spaceship designed in the 50’s. Another adventure was a walk out to the Ithaca shipwreck during low tide (it’s filled with about 8 feet of water during high tide). The ship is falling apart, but it was pretty neat to climb inside, and take a few shots (with what, a shotgun!) at the light socket that hung from the mast (you can see this socket in the picture looking upwards through the ship).<br /><br />A bunch of us took a trip to the quarry, which was this place that was blown up to use rocks to create a dam, called the Weir. I borrowed a canoe from a colleague, and rode in the back of a pick-up truck, in the canoe, to the marina – that was fun. With three others, all our gear and Smokey, the dog, we managed to canoe across the turbulent waters by the dam to the quarry. When we arrived, my friend Samantha was blew her whistle to alert any bears, and sure enough it called Scruffy. Everyone thought that tiny little dog was dead by that time, so it was a miracle he was still alive! The quarry has a 40-foot drop into Caribbean-turquoise water (from the limestone, much like the Bruce Peninsula). Sure enough, I jumped off into the frigid waters, and somehow pulled a muscle in my leg pretty severely. I took no more jumps – didn’t want to push my luck! It was fun, though. We had hotdogs over an open fire and snacks while we were there, and I made sure that Scruffy got plenty of food as well, and the kids gave him lots of TLC. With it being a small town, it didn’t take long before my friend found out about the dog – so much for it being a surprise!<br /><br />On the last day of the long weekend, I went out for an ATV excursion, along the tundra buggy trails (in search for bears). Indeed, there were two bears that took off at the sight of the 4-wheeler, so we hung around until they came back and settled down. Funny thing was that as we were watching the bears, a helicopter circled over top of us, and happened to have my colleague Janine in it (she had gone for a week or so to do some goose banding in the park). The people in the helicopter were so focused on the bears, they didn’t notice us down on the ground, waving (even with my yellow bandana). Bit by bit, we got closer to one of the bears, and the result was a wild picture of me standing with the bear 20 metres behind me, definitely something to hold onto.<br /><br />Also on that excursion, we came across some caribou, and an Arctic fox den. What a bold little creature that fox was – I got some great pictures and video footage of it as it came out of its den and such. In my exploration of the fox den, I sunk into part of it, because the ground on top is not very sturdy with all of the underground tunnels… luckily I didn’t fall in too far (just up to my ankles), whoops.<br /><br />Another colleague of mine has a dirt bike that he uses to get around town. Last week, he taught me how to drive it, and I spent the evening cruising up and down the streets of Churchill and down to the Cape Merry National Historic Site. It wasn’t as difficult as I imagined – my standard car probably made the shifting come naturally to me. Although, after hearing about mom’s not so fortunate experience with a dirt bike when she was my age (and the fact that I wasn’t wearing a helmet), I was careful not to pop the clutch or go reeling around corners.<br /><br />I bought myself a hoodie sweatshirt from the Churchill Northern Studies Centre gift shop, as a souvenir of my time spent there during the course. It was brand new, off the shelf, but as I was trying it on later, I noticed that the pocket was rather bulky… I reached in, and pulled out a lacy thong!!! What are the odds?<br /><br />The last couple of days have been tame in comparison to my wild long weekend (aside from my CSNC sweatshirt purchase)… summer is winding down in Churchill: the days are getting shorter and colder, and people are away for various reason. I’ve been doing lots of overtime trying to get everything packed up… and I will be home real soon! Looking forward to seeing you all. </div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-59553562193608375612007-07-28T15:45:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:48:17.592-08:00Wapusk 2007: the dark side<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjm_pmeh-Q2wzW1xN1dZx82iPQRZRtaLwpOtaDo7j4Eu8LdD3ApOCF20euhkkPBGL0b8cyZ7IEjBustRouCZMvKwlJ7vl9MLbykdimBZZllbgmpOoX6fFN8sgjlzpi9f2aYVK5L30zEjwP/s1600-h/AE+course+059.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301690237571184162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjm_pmeh-Q2wzW1xN1dZx82iPQRZRtaLwpOtaDo7j4Eu8LdD3ApOCF20euhkkPBGL0b8cyZ7IEjBustRouCZMvKwlJ7vl9MLbykdimBZZllbgmpOoX6fFN8sgjlzpi9f2aYVK5L30zEjwP/s320/AE+course+059.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Where to begin… I cannot express how much has happened in the past few weeks, emotionally, and agenda-wise. This part of my update I cannot post to the world, but am sending to you special few. It’s behind the scenes of all the fun and lively things you’ve read about in my past updates. Turmoil with my job, and colleague has made life a little on the stressful side than what it should be in Churchill. Facebook’s horoscope (if you believe those things) for the past week said the following: “Aries: you have been forced to interact with some difficult personalities lately, but you are about to get a break from their craziness. Finally”. I cannot say how true that horoscope was (and oddly enough so many other ones too). My professor/boss from the Biodiversity Institute of Ontario at U of G was here for the past two weeks for the Arctic Ecology course (finished yesterday). I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say that I (and my colleague) was given inadequate training, instruction, and no support from U of Guelph in this brand new initiative with Parks Canada, and people have just realized this now. Most of you know that I really enjoy learning about and working for Parks Canada. This job was supposed to have Parks-related tasks integrated into my summer schedule, but because Dr. Hebert was so dissatisfied, it looks like the rest of the summer will be almost entirely focused on collection of specimens for his project (which it pretty much has been, anyways, and everything has to be done Paul’s way). So that’s work, and a test life has thrown my way this summer has been as my horoscope described above. This professor, my colleague and the graduate student I assisted in Wapusk have taught me to exercise patience, acceptance of criticism and management of conflict. It was just as I feared, that living, partying and working side-by-side with someone 24/7 has taken a bad turn, which certainly doesn’t help when combined with the above job issues too. What I’m going to do about it, I don’t know yet. Right now, I’m just trying to stick it through, stay optimistic, and think of you guys!<br /><br />The student life:<br /><br />My past fourteen days were spent as a student in the Arctic Ecology course at the Churchill Northern Studies Centre (CNSC). Days were long, an 8 am start, and not finishing until after 10 most nights, then a drive back to town to crash on my own bed, before waking up the next day to start all over again. It’s not as if the course required people to stay so late, but participation is key, and there’s always something to do… all in all, it was a great experience. Occasionally, a seminar/lecture would take place after din<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBlVtr6HZrGIPyiVvrzxzIg4qzIHGo6NR1ZfugXx96PL7pD69PlaRN3qdurtJEkGUOGkTOF-k1GoTPtCF1nZg-cqmzQCivv2j1xMPUbZWKINS2ksdYEdqLro-oJyteSGR61kvsuLAozuZE/s1600-h/tundrabuggy_aecourse.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301697348585924818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBlVtr6HZrGIPyiVvrzxzIg4qzIHGo6NR1ZfugXx96PL7pD69PlaRN3qdurtJEkGUOGkTOF-k1GoTPtCF1nZg-cqmzQCivv2j1xMPUbZWKINS2ksdYEdqLro-oJyteSGR61kvsuLAozuZE/s320/tundrabuggy_aecourse.jpg" border="0" /></a>ner – they consisted of the work conducted by various researchers, such as the nematode (worm-like creatures) research one guy did in the Antarctic (he had some cute pictures of the penguins there), and the research done by another scientist in Greenland/Iceland/High Arctic. They were mostly interesting, but the incredibly stuffy and dark room (and a full stomach) made it difficult to stay focused at times. The first week of the course was spent sampling at various sites around Churchill, to familiarize students with the area and give them an idea of what organisms are present in this sub-Arctic region. The second week, students formulated their individual project goals and went to sites of their choice. My project focuses on the biodiversity of amphipods, which are shrimp-like creatures that live in the marine intertidal zone, in relation to variations in salinity and habitat. I chose them because they are quite abundant (straightforward to collect, and all over the place), and I love being on or near water. On purpose, I got away from the crowd of students, and into town one morning to collect around there (I borrowed an ATV and enjoyed my solitude), and another day I arranged for me and two other researchers to go across the river (by boat) to collect at the Prince of Wales Fort National Historic Site (PWF). That was quite enjoyable being on the water all day at PWF, and afterwards we went whale watching, and pretended to be stranded on a buoy in the middle of the river. Other exciting events that were part of the course experience included kayaking with the whales, an all-day tundra buggy tour (we saw nine bears, an Arctic fox, an Arctic hare, a rough-legged hawk, and much more), a walk along Ramsay Trail to see the tundra polygons (natural formations that expose the permafrost beneath the soil) and the buried rocket from the old days when the CNSC was a military rocket launch base. All combined, I’ve seen 12 bears in the last two weeks, so yes, they’re around - it’s the polar bear capital of the world! </div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-28239781473465000842007-07-09T18:00:00.000-07:002009-02-11T15:44:03.263-08:00Wapusk 2007: the Park<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrTCmJli0uIMw7rSNiLcMrsry8ZsKJJwTICh-QiIxBwgmr3mQ6qNyoREpUcwot-uCgHqZrADkNULCePX5KM1tI7oYPfSXY7ABh8wj4qAS0MjPJynlCywUHWsHm9achOXyw5VkOQmc597s8/s1600-h/veg+work+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301689346272879154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrTCmJli0uIMw7rSNiLcMrsry8ZsKJJwTICh-QiIxBwgmr3mQ6qNyoREpUcwot-uCgHqZrADkNULCePX5KM1tI7oYPfSXY7ABh8wj4qAS0MjPJynlCywUHWsHm9achOXyw5VkOQmc597s8/s320/veg+work+2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The belugas are plentiful in the river – everywhere, there are white humps appearing and disappearing all over. Before I left for the park, Anaise and Mike from the study centre met up with Janine and I – we all went down to the seaport to have some wine and cheese while watching the belugas and seals in the river at sunset. That was pretty cool.<br /><br />Wapusk National Park was a whole new experience, last week. There were no roads leading into the park, so our means of getting there was by flight, or snowmobile in the winter-time. This was my first helicopter ride – I got to sit in the front, with the glass panel beneath my feet. The lift-off was unreal, and the scenery was excellent. There were lots of birds flying below – mostly snow geese (who have taken over the park in vast numbers), to me they looked like tiny little white specks moving around below. The park itself was very flat (wide-open), had very few trees – more like sparse clumps of evergreens here and there. Let’s just say that when I had to go, I just had to trust that my colleagues were looking the other way, because the bushes (if any) only went up to my knees, more often than not! I stayed for 9 days at the Nestor 1 camp, which was surrounded by a 10 foot fence, with barbed wire at the top to keep the polar bears out – kind of a role reversal in the sense that it was the humans enclosed behind a fence.<br /><br />I was there to help a graduate student, Jessica, with her research on human and non-human impacts on the tundra ecosystem. Greg came along as a polar bear monitor (even though we didn’t see any – the other two researchers at the park did though). Basically, Jessica would determine which disturbed habitat she wanted to set up transects in – these were 25 m long, with 5 or 6 quadrats (squares to be sampled) each. I had to learn and familiarize myself with about 30 different species of vegetation – you’d be surprised how much diversity there is if you took a closer look at what’s on the ground. We calculated percentages of each species, soil depth, and more. I did some collection of specimens on the side for the barcode of life project, and set up some pitfall runs after we were done with Jessica’s stuff for the day.<br /><br />After work, time was spent playing basketball (they have a net set up at camp), playing cribbage, and reading. There was quite a stack of hunting magazines in the kitchen. Now, when you hear me make reference to “my rack”, I’m talking about the antlers… Anyways, while I was out with Jessica and Greg, I saw lots of caribou, and even got up close to them (they walk right past you if you stay really still), an abundance of birds (snow geese, tundra swans, long-spurs…etc.), a lemming, and even an active fox den, with the mom and dad looking after their pups. No polar bears yet, but there were some sighted by other researches just north of the camp (and there have been several around town recently).<br /><br />The other two researchers were from the states, and after they got back from being out for the day on Canada Day, they let off two shotgun blasts in celebration for us Canadians. We had weather there that ranged from stinking hot with bad bugs, to bloody cold with rain. It just goes to show how quickly the weather can change, based on wind direction (North, off the Bay or from the South). Neverless, I ended up with a tundra tan (hands and face), and realized how much more outdoor field gear I need to get after I return home.<br /><br />Back in Churchill, I worked my 12th day in a row on Friday, and am now off for five days. Keeping occupied for that time is the current challenge. I tagged along to the gun range with some colleagues on Saturday, and tried out a different shotgun (a police magnum, with spot sights, rather than the usual marine magnum with ghost ring sights). I also got to shoot cracker shells (basically firecrackers that give a really loud bang), and a revolver with caps/firecracker.<br /><br />On one of my ATV excursions, I visited an old abandoned wildlife research facility near Churchill. It was full of old medical equipment, drugs, animal cages, and even rusted oxygen tanks that had the University of Guelph printed on them! Apparently, back in the 70’s and 80’s, nasty experiments were undertaken there on polar bears (effects of crude oil on them), and on other marine life. Creepy… </div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-66921019579008258892007-06-21T15:38:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:51:45.047-08:00Wapusk 2007: mammals and invertebrates<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5wELEPRCL3jG-QAIKoJyvjw5ah8rBP4aAGItwlASSB5EXIh3sX3vx0cGpWDzNelugHV-B8gVH8ESo0beNEXaDXLc1oxBYmTE0N-g1n-Ax4irsIKTvA3rJPWwURX6fyvZdkrOiKZDz6AQ/s1600-h/downrange.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301689011223765282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5wELEPRCL3jG-QAIKoJyvjw5ah8rBP4aAGItwlASSB5EXIh3sX3vx0cGpWDzNelugHV-B8gVH8ESo0beNEXaDXLc1oxBYmTE0N-g1n-Ax4irsIKTvA3rJPWwURX6fyvZdkrOiKZDz6AQ/s320/downrange.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Work in the field has come along nicely so far. Pitfall traps have been set up at a number of locations to capture insects. Pitfalls are basically a small plastic container, put into a hole in the ground, filled partially with non-toxic antifreeze (to drown and temporarily preserve whatever falls in them), and covered with a plywood square with nails – there’s a gap big enough so that an insect or spider can fit through, but not something as big as a ground squirrel. The plywood covers the trap so that other animals don’t drink or disturb it. So far, a variety of creatures have been caught. These range from spiders to flies to springtails and beetles. We try to capture anything we see (that typically doesn’t have a backbone) as we are visiting our sites, by net or using good ‘ol fingers.<br /><br />I’ve had the opportunity to visit a number of different locations around Churchill to set these traps up. It’s been a great way to explore the different habitats around the area. The scenery can range from a boreal forest to swamp, open tundra, flat rock, or sandy beach. It’s so nice to be out in the field, even if it’s not the ideal day to spend outside. The weather can change quite dramatically with Churchill being on a water body as large as the Hudson Bay. There’s quite a bit of work to be done now with collecting from these traps, processing them, and eventually putting them into a database. The rapidly growing database currently consists of over 200 vials. A single vial may contain many specimens of similar classification (e.g. spiders in one, flies in another). It’s good to be busy, as always.<br /><br />Tuesday was a beautiful day to be outside, sunny and warm all day long. I was actually in a t-shirt for part of it. The entire day was spent pretty much outside in the field, collecting and setting up traps. After work, a long and exhilarating ATV ride along the beach/tundra with Leonard and Janine during sunset was the perfect end to the day. I was given some Caribou antlers from Leonard as well, but the catch is that the head is still attached… and has been on top of his roof for the past two years. No doubt, I need to remove the skin and clean the skull before it can come indoors. Now, I have something real instead of a puppet (Bruce the Moose) to hang on the wall!<br /><br />A professor from the University of Manitoba, Rob Roughley, came up for a few days to set up some malaise traps with some of his colleagues. Malaise traps are mesh tent-like traps that are designed to capture flying insects. I tagged along with those guys during their stay to observe malaise trap construction, and to set up pitfalls for our own research, nearby. Some of those roads that go to the sites are in rough shape – chugging along logger-type roads in a very old bruiser truck (that belongs to the Churchill Northern Studies Centre), all us researchers have pushed through mud, water, and giant potholes. No shocks for the thing, and city drivers behind the wheel have made it quite the ride at times!<br /><br />I’ve acquired some beautiful custom and hand-made/beaded mitts, made by a local craftswoman. The inside of them is sheepskin, and the outside is made of caribou hide, arctic hare fur, and sealskin. The beadwork fashions a polar bear walking on ice, with a sun above it. The mitts are very special, and will be perfect for cold winter days.<br /><br />Writing this blog/update, carefully uploading my pictures complete with captions, and ATV rides were excellent procrastination against studying for my deferred final. I was relieved to get it over with on Tuesday evening, and happy to focus my attention to something other than mostly work and “Introduction to Aquatic Environments”.<br /><br />A nice reward was that I’m taking care of another colleague’s dog, since I miss my animals at times. Smokey is a 6 month old Jack Russell. He’s a real sweetheart, and I was given an ATV to take him for walks with, while Leonard is gone (he’s got so much energy, that the ATV is the most efficient way to tire him out). Riding the ATV with little Smokey running alongside it is awesome. I even took Smokey to Leonard’s cabin at Goose Creek (about 15 km outside of Churchill) for a day/night by myself to chill. I really like Goose Creek with its peat fens, rugged boreal forest, its surrounding watershed and the even more relaxed atmosphere than town.<br /><br />I’m going into Wapusk National Park for the first time on Monday. I just finished working ten days on, to get four days off. The four days off is part of the field preparation before going into the park. I will certainly write about my adventures in the Park afterwards – stay tuned! </div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-14519592808568290442007-06-02T15:36:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:50:52.659-08:00Wapusk 2007: settling into the Northern Life<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSgFhiWWUR4rTL9QzzMgNq5xSGWHxkFhXFJZ0F-edJ8I28eBglOLoK0FuhtpHveAzY7qUVmb4M7H-fxO69QXjCr65yF3lZuB2cUeiYWeISwNF1YXTlufx8bnW9OlTLMWaZHxPjw0u0q1a/s1600-h/ATV2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301688216455466770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSgFhiWWUR4rTL9QzzMgNq5xSGWHxkFhXFJZ0F-edJ8I28eBglOLoK0FuhtpHveAzY7qUVmb4M7H-fxO69QXjCr65yF3lZuB2cUeiYWeISwNF1YXTlufx8bnW9OlTLMWaZHxPjw0u0q1a/s320/ATV2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Yet more training has occurred at work. This has included stuff that ranged from harassment in the workplace to library guidelines, informal conflict management in the workplace, and radio protocols. The highlight of training was shooting a Remington marine magnum shotgun on the firing range as part of my Parks Canada firearms training course. It was exciting, although those suckers have a bit of a kick to them… at least for me. (My arms are a bit short for the barrel length)<br /><br />Every Friday there is a meat draw at the local legion (bar). Basically, people drink and submit a ticket to win a whole lot of meat. It’s good fun just to hang out with colleagues, play pool, listen to the jukebox, etc. The Seaport bar in town isn’t bad either. However, with the way things are in Churchill, they don’t serve limes … Coronas are just not the same without limes!<br /><br />I ate a Canada goose for the first time on Saturday for dinner with some friends. It was cooked over a beer can on the bbq, shot and plucked by Greg (colleague) - tougher meat, but tasty! I imagine that I will be trying some other more or less routine foods this summer based on the variety of animal life out there.<br /><br />Mom arrived by plane on Sunday, and took the long train ride back to Winnipeg on Thursday. I enjoyed the walks along the tundra with her, and the yummy food and baked stuff she prepared. Can you tell that I appreciate my food?<br /><br />Interesting thing about Churchill is that there is a curfew bell at 10pm every night – not that we have to be inside by that time or anything, but it’s commonly confused to be a polar bear siren by newcomers. The funny thing is that it makes all the dogs in town howl for at least a minute afterwards. There isn’t any polar bear siren… just cracker shells being shot off in the distance. The ice has broken up quite a bit on the Hudson Bay, and I expect it won’t be long until I get to see my first live polar bear.<br /><br />The primary mode of getting around in town is by ATV or truck. It’s not uncommon to ride an ATV to work or to the grocery store. Leonard (colleague) lent me his ATV to use for a bit. It’s a thrill to ride it around town and along the Flats (floodplains along the river where people have built shacks). ATV’s can go surprisingly fast (up to 100km/hr) and with me, the speed demon, you can imagine any passengers holding on for dear life! Note that I haven’t tested the upper limits of speed on it, at least not without a helmet…</div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-35425607621801531332007-05-22T15:30:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:51:24.943-08:00Wapusk 2007: the Arctic<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih8jqcSoGD8GPJuZiT3Wrs_G8WX0lhzUMGCXqT7mBbmhJ4OY-vcx3VfSCE4HJH5qSyz48Ssxb0Cd-XVGIDz12DTdOTuw0HABui3QYvkLEaYWxmm0VgFjSmxTYxZThJ7ePT8HyfSRssvUn4/s1600-h/Arctic+Hare+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301687429255584850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih8jqcSoGD8GPJuZiT3Wrs_G8WX0lhzUMGCXqT7mBbmhJ4OY-vcx3VfSCE4HJH5qSyz48Ssxb0Cd-XVGIDz12DTdOTuw0HABui3QYvkLEaYWxmm0VgFjSmxTYxZThJ7ePT8HyfSRssvUn4/s320/Arctic+Hare+3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>We had some wicked cold weather here last week (-16 C at one point, with the windchill), complete with blizzards and snowbanks. However, all that is gone now, and the once frozen solid Hudson Bay has been steadily breaking up with each day. This means that the polar bears and seals will be coming inland real soon!<br /><br />Cold weather and blizzards didn’t stop me from being the ever-adventurous Jess that you know. On one of my walks out of town, I stumbled upon the Husky tie-up area. There must have been close to fifty (if not more) Huskies tied up one after the other, row after row. They stay there year round – let’s just say that dogs at home live in the lap of luxury compared to dogs here, in Churchill.<br /><br />I’m still getting used to the longer days of the North. The sun rises around 3 am, and sets around 11pm. Time to invest in some heavy blinds… My usual summer regime of rising with the sun and bed when the sun sets just isn’t going to cut it this year! Another thing to get used to is the prices of food – a pint of cherries may go for $20, and a carton of strawberries for $10. Oh well, that’s where isolation pay comes in handy.<br /><br />Our U of G van arrived on Tuesday last week, and I was able to visit the Churchill Northern Studies Centre for the first time. This is an isolated old-rocket launching facility that has been converted for researchers to live in and for research to be conducted out of. It is about 20 min out of town, and is quite military-outpost style. No worse for wear than South residence on campus, I suppose. Each room can have up to 4 bunk beds (8 people), no privacy, and one shared bathroom per dorm. Apparently, the food is good though – I’ll find out when I eat there during my Arctic Ecology field course (through U of G) in July. Janine and I were there to check up on the inventory of U of G supplies left behind from last year’s Arctic Ecology course, and to drop off the supplies we carted along with us from Guelph.<br /><br />Friday and Tuesday brought forth Canadian Firearms Safety Course training. This pretty much drilled the safe use of firearms (mostly shotguns and rifles) into our brains, and included discussions about basic types of guns, ammunition, ways to hold guns, and simple scenarios that involved firearms. Only dummy ammunition and firearms were used for this course. The good stuff comes later: with Parks Canada issue firearms training.<br /><br />One of the highlights of my day was that there was an Arctic Hare in front of the office – and you bet, I got pictures! </div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-87367174472492881382007-05-06T15:29:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:52:50.930-08:00Wapusk 2007: road trip to Churchill<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3y2j5tgisjy_SPbtDEr13uMIjPghfJiPlc6B6fkv0Lpijp5dzhYzxBFv2-0M57TZpgfbGa5K_keJOAfGUSUotrTIuGogCG3PiDadqvFreXDpBd9CR91mec9l-m9K4ztZ3Ps5YaOl3-1k/s1600-h/Pisew+Falls,+Jess.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301687722056211474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3y2j5tgisjy_SPbtDEr13uMIjPghfJiPlc6B6fkv0Lpijp5dzhYzxBFv2-0M57TZpgfbGa5K_keJOAfGUSUotrTIuGogCG3PiDadqvFreXDpBd9CR91mec9l-m9K4ztZ3Ps5YaOl3-1k/s320/Pisew+Falls,+Jess.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Yep, I’m here in Churchill! Janine and I left Tuesday morning and made it to Sault Ste Marie by nighttime. To Kenora the next day, then finally on the third day we crossed the Manitoba border (into the Central Time Zone), and drove straight up to Thompson. We originally were going to stay overnight at Grand Rapids Reserve, rather than Thompson, but we were deterred by the fact that the only place to stay had a bar with slots in which people were gambling and drunk at 4:30 in the afternoon. I’m glad that we didn’t stay, since Thompson was much more inviting.<br /><br />No problems driving, aside from a lack of air conditioning in the van. Although, after spending at least 12 hrs a day in the van with the heat, it was nice not having to spend much time in the van on the fourth day. Near Thompson, we stopped by Pisew Falls Provincial Park, and saw the spectacular falls there. It’s hard to describe them in words, so take a look at the video!<br /><br />From Thompson, we took the 18 hour train ride to Churchill. The scenery changed from tall, dense coniferous trees to shorter and shorter, one-sided spruce trees, with the occasional tamarack and poplar. Caribou, muskrats, Arctic ground squirrels, and other wildlife were seen as the train went by as well. I can’t wait to see more of the wildlife in the area.<br /><br />Janine and I were welcomed by Mike (warden) and Sheldon (supervisor), after we got off the train. We are sharing a townhouse with Mike for the summer. All is going well so far. We have cable t.v, internet, our own rooms, and good company. For the rest of Saturday, Janine and I were glad to settle into our rooms, have hot showers, eat a yummy lunch at the local café, and to get groceries at the only grocery store in town. We even had enough energy to attend a multi-birthday party at the local bar, based on news we picked up on the train by the VIA workers who were planning to celebrate. There’s a pool table there, so maybe I’ll get good enough to give Brian a real challenge once I get back!<br /><br />Sunday was a veg and exploratory day. I got my first full-view of the Hudson Bay, although it’s completely covered with ice right now. Churchill has snowbanks, and the polar bears are still off hunting on the ice so we are not restricted to staying indoors just yet!<br /><br />Our first day of work was basically spent whacking plastic babies and practicing CPR on torso-dummies (for red-cross certification, that is), and of course, meeting the Parks Canada staff of Wapusk National Park. Everyone is friendly and inviting, as expected. Except for the CPR dolls – they seemed rather shocked to see me, based on their forever opened mouths.</div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-78201425610527003302007-05-06T15:28:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:52:15.843-08:00Wapusk 2007: prelude<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ69jtqc15lOr7db0Km5HO-35jn3PJB0M_7TpRlv5G8gSUWCjP-KCHf9gGnZ0chl2OwQTunzBYsolCzkxkhOpcnwlk0vJvAHOlLQTR7KZv3T2Gh3NT6-qno3VOpxQ6NVvKDuvvlt42se_H/s1600-h/bean+bag+chairs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301698222855250226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ69jtqc15lOr7db0Km5HO-35jn3PJB0M_7TpRlv5G8gSUWCjP-KCHf9gGnZ0chl2OwQTunzBYsolCzkxkhOpcnwlk0vJvAHOlLQTR7KZv3T2Gh3NT6-qno3VOpxQ6NVvKDuvvlt42se_H/s320/bean+bag+chairs.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I know many of you enjoyed reading the Tobermory/Bruce Peninsula updates last summer. Well, once again school is done for the summer, and it is my aim to continue writing about my adventures/experiences working for Parks Canada.<br /><br />It has been nearly a year since my summer in Bruce Peninsula National Park and Fathom Five National Marine Park. Turns out I’ll be going on another adventure this summer: my work is combined with research at the University of Guelph’s Biodiversity Institute of Ontario and Wapusk National Park. The research U of G is having me do is collect specimens of all kinds in or near Wapusk. This is done as a means for creating DNA barcodes for every living thing on the planet. It has a long way to go by far, but their ultimate “aim” so to speak is to one day is to have a cell-phone sized device, in which with a simple tissue sample can identify any species based on its genetic material. Pretty fascinating to be part of the leading edge of science. See the attached article if you would like to learn more about this. I’ve been doing training at U of G for this since April 23 (my last exam was on the 20th). This has included mounting insects, learning how to use the BOLD (Barcode of Life Database), and preparing insects for DNA analysis, such as pinning them, placing in labeled vials, label making... not the most exciting stuff I’ve encountered, but still somewhat interesting.<br /><br />The other part of my job will include stuff like the tagging of wild fowl, checking on research stations, and other little jobs for Parks Canada. At some point, Janine and I will be dropped off my helicopter in the park and camp in the backcountry for five days at a time. I have yet to learn more about my role in Wapusk National Park, but it won’t be much longer until I’m up there. I’m scheduled to take the train from Thompson, MB to Churchill on Friday. My colleague and I leave in a U of G van on Tuesday to drive to the train station in Thompson for Friday. The van will be put on the train on Monday, with all the scientific and research supplies for our use over the summer.<br /><br />We will be finished on August 24. I will be staying in a townhouse with Janine and a park warden, which will be much quieter than the staffhouse I lived in last summer, where I felt like I was a camp counselor/baby sitter at times.<br /><br />I admit, I will miss the special people (and horse) at home while I’m gone, and it has been quite the rush to get things in order for the trip. This has been stuff like moving Melody to her summer holiday home at Vernadee Equestrian Centre, buying field supplies, moving out of my house in Guelph, all on top of working at the University and at the barn. Yeah, crazy, but I’m positive that this summer will be yet another memorable and valuable experience of which I will keep you all updated!</div>peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-10835985620306777532006-08-19T15:26:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:56:32.934-08:00Tobermory 2006: farewellGood news – Melody is all better, and I’m back in the saddle.<br /><br />I started nighttime roadkill monitoring two weeks ago. On the Tuesday and Thursday, I had fragmented days at work, so that I would work in the mornings and get the afternoons off to head out in the evening with my supervisor, Melissa. We are hoping to see a difference in the number of live occurrences on the road. So far, it hasn’t been very eventful.<br /><br />However, on Friday we had an exciting morning since the one Massasauga who we were monitoring on Cove Island gave birth recently. We observed three babies – they were less than 20cm long, with a little button of a rattle, and were quite aggressive. We caught them and took measurements, which was fun. The babies stay with their mother for about 3 days before venturing out on their own.<br /><br />Tuesday and Wednesday were busy days last week with preparations for the Grand Opening of the new Visitor’s Centre. All Young Canada Works students and many staff members helped out on those days – setting up chairs, cleaning, last minute completions of the exhibits, etc. The Opening Ceremony was memorable. Chiefs of neighboring native reserves, MP’s, CEO’s from Parks Canada’s National Office, other Parks staff, and approximately 500 visitors attended the event. Speeches were made by people of importance, native drummers were performing, caterers were giving out free food, flying squirrel and snake demonstrations took place. One of my jobs was to provide water, complimentary on part of Parks Canada to everyone who wanted some. I gave out so many bottles of water - it was crazy! Wednesday night’s party was awesome. Staff, family and friends attended for great food and raucous times.<br /><br />I am now approaching my final week in the Bruce – no doubt I’ll miss it here, but I look forward to returning to Guelph and B-town to see you all.peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-8257985541480764262006-08-07T15:25:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:59:26.089-08:00Tobermory 2006: Georgian Bay Islands National ParkThings were a bit crazy for me with planning for a big trip to the Georgian Bay Islands National Park for Young Canada Works. I came up with the idea, planned, reserved, borrowed, emailed, informed supervisors, wrote a funding proposal, and got money for this trip. It was a little stressful when budget was looking tight, but everything worked out in the end and the trip turned out well! It was a three day trip (July 23-25, Sun-Tues), with 8 people; myself, the team leader; Michelle, the supervisor for highschool YCW students; a staff member on exchange from Parks Victoria in Australia; and 5 other YCW students.<br /><br />We camped at Awenda Provincial Park in Penetanguishene, which is a nice area. Through my camping experience, I learned that an air mattress is an important thing to have and that sharing one just won’t cut it. Sunday afternoon we went to Wye Marsh, a conservation area of sorts in Midland. The group went on a guided tour, and on a canoe ride through the marsh.<br /><br />Monday, we visited the administration office for GBI National Park to meet with the staff member (an ecologist named Andrew) whom I had been in touch with through email. He informed us about the park, his career etc. After meeting Andrew, our group headed over to Sainte Marie Among the Hurons, also in Midland. I’m not really into history and culture, but most people enjoyed it, and it was somewhat interesting for me. Wye Marsh and Sainte Marie Among the Hurons were places that I planned us to visit since the trip was supposed to be educational and career related, but the main focus of the trip was to visit another national park. Monday night, just for fun everyone went out for dinner and went to see Stompn’ Tom. Watching Stompn’ Tom was an experience… as was watching some of the hillbillies that came to see him too hehe. That night, as we were driving back, our caravan train of two pulled over to inspect the lights of the van I was driving – the two front ones weren’t working! It was a Kia rental van used for work, so naturally it hadn’t been used at night. I switched driving that van over to Amber since I don’t see my best at night, and sure enough as we passed through Penetanguishene, we got pulled over by a cop. Luckily, the cop let us off and Amber had to drive the van back to the campsite with fog lights/high beams on.<br /><br />Tuesday, we met up with Andrew again to head over to GBI itself. The species at risk technician and GIS specialist (satellite mapping) and Andrew took us by boat to the main island, Beausoleil for a brief hike on the North end of the island, where the Canadian Shield shows through the ground. The area was surprisingly over developed compared to the Bruce, complete with fake beaches, water trampolines, million-dollar condo developments, and hundreds of boats passing through daily… totally cottage country. One of the highlights for me that day was that our group got to meet and hold Pinapple, the big and friendly Eastern Fox Snake! We left for the Bruce around 2pm that afternoon and got back around 8pm.<br /><br />Saturday, the Visitor’s Centre hosted a butterfly count, where groups of four went out to different areas of Bruce and Fathom Five to observe and record different species in the parks. I learned a few new things, and it was something to do for the day… like those little white typical butterflies are called Cabbage Whites J<br /><br />I am now one of the priviledged few who have gotten to ride the huge Coast Guard boat… they included me (and two others) on their daily cruise. The boat is so big that it uses at least 100L of fuel per hour. It has four places where it can be skippered, complete with sophisticated machinery. The Coast Guards share the Marine Operations Base with researchers and wardens of the national parks. They even have their own house which overlooks the harbour when they’re on for a two week on/two week off period… competition for the two-million dollar neighbors!<br /><br />Thursday and Friday were full days for me. I started at 6:30am on both days to do snake monitoring, then headed over to Flowerpot Island as a YCW event to help the Friends of Fathom Five. We got guided hikes of the island and caves, ate excellent food (we were given a dinner on behalf of the Friends for their appreciation of our help), and we had great weather. I went back to the mainland for the night, but several others stayed on the island overnight (in the supposedly haunted museum). I helped sand and paint the porch of the Lighthouse Keeper’s House (which is the museum), complete with a great view!<br /><br />Unfortunately, Melody somehow injured her leg and has been lame for the past few days. It’s not severe – I think she bruised the bone of her pastern, for those of you who know what that is. I’ve been visiting her daily to wrap her legs, and to give her TLC.peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4021811477634169974.post-4801170461008769152006-07-22T15:25:00.000-07:002009-03-05T15:59:11.887-08:00Tobermory 2006: Wigwassi jiimanI spent a morning with some of the Fathom Five National Marine Park researchers monitoring fish abundance in some of the bays. With waders up to my chest, I helped collect nets in shallow water that had been set up the day before. These were large square nets with forty-five degree angle ‘wings’ to guide the fish into the traps. We dumped the contents into a bucket and the researcher counted how many of each species were present in each of the traps. One of the nets had a huge pike fish, nearly a metre long. Most of them had some lost turtles, which we tossed back into the water.<br /><br />Outside of the Bruce: I went home for one weekend for a change. Mom had me busy on Saturday, playing in a golf tournament for her ski club. It was a good thing that we played best shot, where all players put their ball beside the best ball shot in the group or else we probably would have been out there for quite a bit longer. That evening, one of the ski club (and sailing club) members had a barbeque…I played lots of volleyball, jumped on the trampoline, and had a Cockatiel on my shoulder. A nice finish to the barbeque was when a wooden figure with skis, paper face and a shirt that said ‘Pot bellied stallion’ on it was put on a piece of wood jutting out from a ladder that went over the fence line of Terry’s property. He lit it on fire, and it slid along the piece of wood to drop onto a pile of wood, and among all the drunken cheering of everyone present, it immediately erupted into flames… goodbye potbellied stallion. That Sunday was pretty much catching up on shopping and driving back to the Bruce to see Melody before the sun went down.<br /><br />Friday was a busy day despite the fact that I had the day off. In the morning I went on a long hike to Cave Point, which has this huge cave on the shoreline – really neat! Afterwards, I headed over to the Visitor’s Centre where the month-long birchbark canoe project was finished. This was a large birchbark canoe (Wigwassi Jiiman) that was made from scratch by Aboriginals who were hired for the project. The canoe was portaged from the Visitor’s Centre to the shoreline (by the Grandview restaurant). A large crowd, including the man who named the Chi-cheemaun on the shoreline, and the Fathom Five boats were watching in the water as the canoe was launched… and the Chi-cheemaun itself came in and blew its horn as they paddled the birchbark canoe around the harbour – it was awesome!peregrinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12805334811794168842noreply@blogger.com0