Tag: travel

Quebec

Nortre Dame de Bon Secours Chapel, Montreal, Old Port.

Lisa and I are just back from a trip to Quebec. We spent time in Montreal, Quebec City and the Eastern Townships, where we picked up our new puppy, Toast. Toast is a Standard Wire-Haired Dachshund, the same breed as Willow and Slinky.

We met with the breeder, who runs a kennel at her home and breeds dogs for tracking and hunting; instincts that come naturally to the Wire-Haired Dachshund. We also met Toast’s parents. Her dam was a lovely, very affectionate dog, while her sire was one of the finest examples of the breed I have ever seen. He came from Germany and had won many awards for both tracking and show. He was spirited but kind with us, and I could easily imagine him loving every minute spent in the bush.

The breeder was exceptionally knowledgeable and completely committed to her dogs. She even allowed Lisa and me to stay overnight, which was a welcome relief after walking many miles through the streets of Montreal and Quebec City. We came away very impressed with everything we saw.

World Press Photo Exposition 2026, Montreal.

Before visiting the breeder, we treated ourselves to a holiday in Montreal and Quebec City to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary. We had to pack very light so were not able to take our camera which would have been phenomenal. Subsequently all photos were taken on our phones.

Our first stop was Montreal, where the highlights were almost too numerous to list. The restaurants, history and welcoming culture were wonderful. We stayed in Old Montreal and spent our days walking through the Old Port, marvelling at the architecture, historic buildings and churches.

Montreal City Hall

On our first day of exploring, we unexpectedly came across the World Press Photo exhibition in Montreal. I knew the exhibition was taking place in the city, but I hadn’t expected us to stumble upon it. Lisa and I are both big believers in letting things unfold rather than planning every step of a trip, and this was one of those fortunate moments.

Downtown Montreal from Mount Royal. A keen eye will spot Leonard Cohen.

We spent several hours looking at some of the finest press and documentary photography in the world. The presentation was exceptional and, at times, heartbreaking. It was impossible to walk through the exhibition without being moved.

Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal.

Another stop was Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal, where we took in the nighttime light show and learned about the history of this remarkable Gothic Revival church. The light show itself was quite an experience. Lisa and I both agreed it was probably a good thing we weren’t tripping on any substances while watching it.

On another outing, we realized we were close to the cemetery where explorer David Thompson is buried. Again, it wasn’t planned, so we set off to pay our respects to a man whose name is so closely tied to the Columbia Valley and whose journals my father and I spent so many hours studying.

David Thompson’s monument in Mount Royal Cemetery.

We first managed to go to the wrong cemetery. I hadn’t expected two enormous cemeteries to be sitting side by side, but after being pointed in the right direction, we headed farther up Mount Royal. Before long, we were standing in front of David Thompson’s monument. For me, it was certainly one of the highlights of the trip.

Duc De Lorraine French Patisserie & Bistro. We bought a few things here and they were fabulous!

From Montreal, we travelled by train along the St. Lawrence River to Quebec City. We stayed just outside Old Quebec and once again spent much of our time walking and taking in the history around us. It is certainly a very touristy area, but we thoroughly enjoyed it. We gravitated toward the museums, historic buildings and churches. One museum, in Montreal, even took us underground, where we walked through part of the city’s early sewer system and saw the remains of one of its earliest settlements.

Feast your eyes on a petite, curvy beauty, whose feisty retort can really go boom when you light her fuse . . . and to the left of Lisa a canon, Quebec City.

There were so many wonderful sights and experiences throughout the trip that I know we will remember for years to come. But what made it particularly special was experiencing it all with my best friend and the woman I have loved for more than 40 years.

And then there was Toast.

It is wonderful to have a puppy in our lives again. Lisa and I have missed Willow terribly. My excursions into the bush and my nights spent out under the stars simply haven’t felt the same without her beside me.

Training a new dog will be a lot of work, and I expect Toast will be different from both Willow and Slinky. She will have her own personality, her own quirks and her own instincts. We aren’t looking for another Willow. We are looking forward to getting to know Toast for who she is.

And I am especially looking forward to the first time I take her into the bush, let her put that dachshund nose to the ground, and watch her discover a world that already seems to be in her blood.

Stay tuned for Toast.

Rock and Snow

A change of plans today. Originally, I was going to hike with Cooper and Scarlett, but the smoke was very bad. Since my heart was set on seeing some rock and snow, and my pack was already loaded with a couple of treats, I set out alone.

This mornings sun filtered with smoke.

The sun came up red at 7:30. Luckily, the trail started in the cool bush and climbed quickly. It always seems to take me an hour or so before I work the kinks out and start to feel comfortable. I spotted a lone black bear cub that scattered quickly into the trees. This is the second one I’ve seen this year without its momma around. Hopefully, she was just off in the bush.

The wildflowers were abundant on the slopes and along the trail; paintbrush, columbine, fireweed, potentilla, violets, white pasque flowers, mountain forget-me-nots, and many others.

The pikas let me know I was intruding once I’d made it into the alpine, while buntings and creepers followed me through the forest. The smoke cleared somewhat at the higher elevation. Looking back down, I could see just how thick it was below. Definitely not a day for the kids.

Rising above the smoke on the trail.

I opted for the back of the basin, keeping close to the mountainside where there was at least a little shade from the sun.

There was still snow in the basin. Being August, perhaps it will remain all year, something I haven’t seen for many years. I always think that if a little snow remained each year, it wouldn’t take long to build the glaciers back. When I say “not long,” I mean geologically speaking, hundreds or thousands of years. The moraine I crossed was once covered in ice. Before that, it lay beneath an ancient ocean. Cracking shale in this area often reveals fossils of sea creatures from that distant time. The Rocky Mountains are full of places like that.

The snow felt good beneath my boots, and I promised myself I’d walk across it on the way back instead of picking my way down the loose rock, which is tough enough going up.

I reached the back of the basin at about 11:30. Time to pissass around, as my father used to say. I wandered among the rocks and flowers and found a small tarn the melting snow had created.

Once I stopped moving, I could hear voices.

There was no way anyone else would be up here. From this perch I would have seen anyone coming or going. I stood perfectly still, slowed my breathing, and there they were again. They were far enough away that I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they were voices nonetheless.

Or so I thought.

This went on for a while.

Finally, I stopped once more and calmed my breathing. There they were again, faint, as though carried from somewhere in the distance. I held my breath, trying to catch a word.

The voices stopped.

I started breathing again, and they started up.

Damned if it wasn’t a wheeze in my chest that sounded exactly like distant conversation. Perhaps the smoke was worse than I thought, and the quick ascent had caught up with my lungs. That gave me a good laugh.

Not my favourite to walk on.

As promised I stayed off the rolling rocks on the way down. The sun was unavoidable by then, but it felt good as I crossed the lingering snow. From there I retraced my route through the rocks, into the bush, and down to the creek bottom where I’d left the truck.

Very fine day.

Columbine

Tamarack

Mid July

The bright light of Invermere compete with the Milky Way.

There was a time when we used to run up Mt. Swansea and spend the night in the fire lookout. We challenged each other when we were teenagers. Usually booze was involved, as it seemed to be in just about everything if you grew up in the valley.

That lookout could get cold. I remember one of our drunken ascents, waking up freezing in the morning. My friend had wrapped himself in a sheet of plastic he’d found. At first glance, I wondered if he had suffocated himself. Luckily, he’d left just his nose uncovered so he could breathe.

The fire lookout had a mounted scope and a large map of the entire area spread across a table in the middle of the room. If the lookout spotted a fire, they would locate it on the map and radio in the coordinates. The lookouts don’t exist anymore. Satellites, helicopters, and GPS have taken their place. The one on Swansea was dismantled long ago.

The Milky Way through the smoke rises above the Town of Windermere and Lake Windermere.

Tonight, I drove most of the way up and hiked the last section to the summit. The mountain is used primarily for mountain biking now, and I rarely go up anymore. But I figured it would be quiet in the middle of the night, and I was right. There were only rabbits and one owl that silently flew across the trail in front of me, giving me a start just the same. Willow would have taken exception to that.

At the top, I took a few photos from the spot where the lookout once stood. There are definitely more lights now than when I used to run up here. It was a young moon and had set much earlier. There was some smoke and a few low clouds, but otherwise the viewing was good. The lights washed out many of the stars, but the Milky Way could still be seen clearly.

Ready for take off. Several satellites cut through the galaxy.

This may look like a meteor near Perseus, however it is either the International Space Station or the China Space Station. The streak is the distance it moves during the 20 seconds the camera shutter is open. It started very bright then faded.

Mid June

A Highland Cow enjoying the abundant grass.

The garden is on the verge of catching hold. The cucumbers have not enjoyed the rain but are still hanging on as are the tomatoes. Not exactly flourishing though.

A few things came up very spotty. Beets and lettuce for instance, strange as they usually come up like gangbusters. I did use old seed, perhaps that made a difference.

The starlings have vacated the hole in the top of our tree. With the foliage out in full force one could hardly see the hole. The young ones have learned to fly and flown the coop.

My trips in the bush have not been as frequent. Still missing Willow. Lisa has been trying to track down another Wire-Haired Standard Dachshund but they are hard to come by. They are much more popular in Europe. I have joked that I’m going to go to Poland to get a hound. Our Wire-Haired before Willow, Slinky was from Poland. She was also a fantastic dog.

Here are a few pics from June.

A Roundleaf Orchid. I returned to this orchid recently to get a picture of the flowers open and it had been munched off. Flowers are a favourite of bears. There was plenty of sign to confirm this suspicion.

Lola helping me find Orchids along the game trails.

Coral Orchid. These were everywhere and reminded me of Asparagus.

Following a game trail. I often followed game trails when I was young, hunting, but often, just trying to learn from the animals. Where they were going, what routes they chose, where they would dip down for water or rise onto the mountain side, the tracks they left and which animals shared the route. My young self figured they knew the bush better than us, so why not learn from them. Older now I have trouble managing the deadfalls.

Bog Orchid.

An Oldtimer harvesting pine pollen. This was taken on a walk with Lisa, Cooper and Scarlett. The kids asked what pine pollen is good for. I told them it was good for the immune system and can even be used as an aphrodisiac. Cooper wanted to know what an aphrodisiac was, Lisa said it can give a man an erection. Cooper’s response was, “Why would somebody want more of those.”

Wood Frames & Wild Orchids

Yellow Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium calceolus)

My mother used to enjoy going to garage sales. She would find all kinds of treasures, some of which she would pass along to me. There were books she thought I would enjoy and old picture frames that I liked restoring. She had a great eye for a bargain.

Recently, I found an old wooden frame. It still had its original glass. The picture and mat inside had been badly damaged by water and could not be saved, they crumbled when I removed them. The frame, however, was still solid. I removed the rusted finishing nails that held the picture in place, along with the old hanging wire and the glass. The glass itself was old, with a few air bubbles trapped in it from when it was made. After a good cleaning, it was almost like new again, although it retained the slight tint that old glass often develops.

The frame was made of oak and had originally been stained black. Over time, the stain had weathered, allowing the grain to show through. That aging is exactly what I like to preserve. It is amazing how well some old frames were built. For one thing, they are made of solid wood.

After cleaning the dirt from the grooves with a toothbrush and giving it a very light sanding, I rubbed it with tung oil. This really brings out the patterns in the wood and helps nourish it. You can almost hear the wood saying, “Thanks!”

I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the frame once it’s ready for its new life. I’ll have to think of something.

***

Mountain Lady’s-Slippers (Cypripedium Montanum)

Lisa and I were poking around up the mountain the other day and spotted a few yellow lady’s-slippers and some mountain lady’s-slippers. They are right on schedule and seem to be enjoying the rain we’ve been having. These photos are from that outing.

How High’s the Water, Mama?

The mouth of Lake Windermere. The brown water from Toby Creek can be seen backing up into the blue water of Lake Windermere. Picture taken on May 28th, 2026 before the rain started.

We have had a good dose of moisture starting about a week ago. It has been nice. The grass is knee deep. My plan was to mow it today, as the rain looked like it was going to stop, but overnight it started again.

Yesterday, I hilled the potatoes. Everything is up in the garden and enjoying the moisture. Once the sun shines, everything will take off.

These pictures were taken a week ago. They show the Columbia River leaving Lake Windermere. As often happens at this time of year, when the mountain snow melts and we get rain, the river flows backwards into the lake.

This is caused by Toby Creek backing up where it enters the Columbia about a mile to the north. The course of Toby Creek has been altered over the years to help prevent flooding in Athalmer. In the past, Toby Creek would rush out of the mountains and create an alluvial fan stretching from the mouth of Lake Windermere to well below where it enters the Columbia today.

Standing on the benches above Invermere and Athalmer, one can almost see where Toby Creek once spread out across the valley. It was in this area that salmon spawned before dams blocked their passage from the Pacific Ocean.

The Columbia River flowing backwards is a reminder that nature cannot be denied.

There have been several instances over the past decade when Invermere’s sewer system has struggled at this time of year. Panorama has also experienced problems with its wastewater system. Both systems discharge treated wastewater into Toby Creek.

A couple of years ago, I wrote to several District of Invermere officials expressing concern that untreated sewage could potentially flow into Lake Windermere when the river backs up. The fact that untreated sewage could enter a river is troubling enough. I specifically mentioned the possibility of it backing into Lake Windermere because the lake is viewed as central to the region’s tourism economy, and tourism appears to be what attracts the attention of local decision makers.

However, I received no response. Not a word. Other than what I viewed as an attempt by District of Invermere Council to assassinate my character and make my views illegitimate. https://palliserpass.ca/2023/06/17/mid-june-2/

We are blessed to live at the source of the Columbia River. Over the years, we have changed it to meet our needs. Many of those changes have been devastating to its natural flow, its native species, and the Indigenous peoples who relied on its life giving gifts for thousands of years.

Today, it sometimes seems our primary goal is simply to keep Lake Windermere clean enough to support tourism, large wake boats, and the second home market.

Instead, each of us who lives here should consider ourselves a guardian of the land. Of course, every one of us leaves a footprint, and every footprint has consequences. But why take more than we need?

Some things are more important than growth and convenience. The lakes and rivers that sustain us are among them.

Searching

Everywhere we looked, animals were ducking for cover, which was essentially what we were doing. We got higher than we’d been since November. The clouds quickened. A rabbit jumped off the trail. Squirrels had left their cones shredded on the deadfalls. A small falcon tested the wind, curious enough to hang around and get a good look at us. Several light-coloured swifts flew like bullets through the timber. They must have an amazing navigation system. Thrushes, robins, and juncos scattered, disturbed by the two of us early on the trail.

And the quiet was wonderful, exactly what the ears needed.

We stopped below a rock bluff with a view north. The valley bottom was long gone. We could see storms forming above Baldy, sheets of misty rain rolling closer while the clouds directly overhead kept flowing north. A great collision, perhaps. Would the rain get through?

We spotted a large black bear below, near where we had come from. It was accompanied by a few crows and several grey jays perched on the top spikes of spruce and pine. We kept our eyes on them as they turned back down the mountain. We wished them peace, and for them to stay hidden, the same wish for ourselves.

The northern clouds won. Hail and snow started to fall. It wouldn’t last; it was spring after all, and blue sky was already showing through.

***

The other day I was cut off by a tourist in a shiny little sports car with all its windows tinted black. All the stuff I had on my seats ended up on the floor when I slammed on the brakes. If Willow had of been there she would have crashed into the dashboard, which she has done before on similar occasions.

I cursed, not at the driver, who had long sped off, but at this reminder that we are again on the verge of another busy tourist season.

A Kick in the Groyne

The Akisqnuk First Nation, which is part of the Ktunaxa Nation, has recently opposed a couple of projects regarding Lake Windermere.

The first was dredging a portion of the lake to create a boat marina at Thetheway Beach. Thetheway is a vacation home area in Windermere. The new boat docks would be for the exclusive use of Thetheway residents, most of whom are from Alberta.

The second is the refurbishment of a boat launch at Athalmer, located on District of Invermere property. At one time, the District considered buying a crane to expedite putting boats in the lake. That’s probably still coming.

The general consensus among many residents is that there are already too many jet, motor, and wake boats on Lake Windermere.

The Akisqnuk First Nation’s stance is that there is a state of lawlessness on and around Lake Windermere. Docks and boat launches are being built off the ever-growing number of lakeshore second homes. Buoys are being placed along the shores to moor motorboats. There is also the claiming of shoreline ownership by many second-home owners, even though land up to twelve feet above the high-water mark is designated as public. In addition, there has been the takeover of public rights-of-way to the lake by homeowners.

These homes along the shores of Lake Windermere are worth millions and are mostly owned by people from out of province who feel entitled to do as they please.

The District of Invermere is very much in favour of this takeover by vacationers of Lake Windermere, as they reason it brings money into the valley. Since the District’s mayor and councillors are made up of people who own businesses, I can understand why they would want to support the agenda of second homeowners as it puts money in the pockets of businesspeople, and they are, above all, who they represent.

Also on the agenda is the potential removal of the rock groyne at the mouth of the Columbia River at the north end of Lake Windermere. Every year, at least a few expensive motorboats are damaged when they run into it, even though it is clearly marked.

The groyne has been there since the 1800s, and it is unclear what its purpose was. It could have been to deepen the channel to make boat passage easier, or it may have been used for fishing when salmon spawned in the area. It may also have been built to prevent Toby Creek from changing the channel.

Regardless, boaters and the District want it gone.

I am glad the Akisqnuk First Nation has stepped in. Someone has to try to protect the lake from this kind of unchecked development.

Snow

About 8 inches of wet snow fell last night. The roads turned slick. We were due in Calgary, but decided to reschedule.

I have included another couple of pictures of the eclipse. I was happy to be able to capture some of the stars around the moon, usually impossible during a full moon as its shine drowns them out. Regulus can be seen above the moon and several stars from the constellation Leo.

***

I changed the oil and filters in my truck yesterday. I haven’t done that in a real long time. I usually take the truck down to Cranbrook an hour and a half down the road for service. People ask why I don’t get it serviced closer to home. The answer is: I’ve always done this. At one time I knew most of the mechanics in the valley and I didn’t want to dislike them. Mechanics are notorious for fucking up and it’s never their fault. Granted they have to keep up on ever changing technology and it can’t be easy. So I drive 150 km out of my way. That way if I’m pissed off at the quality of the work it is at a place out of sight and not at a mechanic I play hockey with on Sunday night, or see at the school picking up their kids.

Now, I have to admit, it probably cost me more to change it myself. First, I bought synthetic oil and a good quality filter.

Second, I had to make a trip to the hardware to buy a six point 15mm socket because the goddamn oil plug was in so tight. The wrenches I had were twelve point and I didn’t want to round off the plug, or I would have been going to the mechanic for a real big bill, and the mechanic would not have spared me from letting me know what a fool I was.

Third, I checked online to see where to take the old oil for recycling. The first place I took it wouldn’t take it, the second place said they stopped taking it. So I drove it over to the landfill who said they don’t take it, but gave me the name of a place that did, and surprise, an hour and a half later and a few litres of Trumps expensive gas, I finally got rid of it.

And fourth, my pants and jacket become thoroughly dirty from lying on the ground, requiring me to spend more time and detergent washing them. Actually, I’ve kept them hidden waiting for a good time to show them to Lisa.

So there you have it, done in by my own hard headedness. Which is a common occurrence.

Eclipse

We were very fortunate to see the lunar eclipse on the morning of March 3rd, especially considering how cloudy it has been this winter.

I have included another photo from that night. Photographing the moon can be difficult. If you expose for the moon, the landscape often turns out very dark. If you expose for the landscape, the moon becomes completely blown out. I have always preferred photographing the moon in a blue sky at dusk or dawn. Doing so allows you to choose an exposure that works for everything in the frame.

I try to keep my astrophotography simple. Most of my images are single exposures. Occasionally I will take multiple images to create a panorama when I want to show more of the scene than a single frame can capture.

During this eclipse, however, I did something very common in astrophotography: I took two exposures of the same scene—one exposed for the moon and one for everything else. This allowed me to capture detail in the moon without it being blown out. I achieved this by adjusting the ISO and shutter speed between shots. In Photoshop I stacked the images and used masking to combine the best parts of both exposures. It is a bit of a trick, and I admit I feel somewhat guilty for doing it.

This method is widely used. Photographers often take many exposures of the sky to reduce noise, along with separate exposures for the landscape and the stars. The images are then aligned and processed in Photoshop to create a polished final photograph. The Milky Way can really pop when this technique is used.

However, this approach isn’t really for me—not because I believe there is anything wrong with it, but because it requires more concentration and planning than I enjoy when I’m out photographing. I prefer to roam around with my camera, capturing single shots as I go.

There are also many photographers now using AI in astrophotography. For me, these images are usually easy to spot and make up a large portion of astrophotography found online. They can be striking, and again, there is nothing inherently wrong with these methods. I know of several landscape photographers who place the Milky Way above well-known mountains in directions where the Milky Way never actually appears. The images sell well for them—and why not?

Perhaps it is because I grew up in a newspaper shop that my instinct with photography is to document. I try to make the best photograph I can with the equipment I have, paying attention to composition, colour, and the rule of thirds. But in the end, what I am really trying to capture is a place, a moment in time, and an attitude—something that may not exist in quite the same way in the years ahead.