Sunday, October 10, 2021

Catching up on the last few months

As I mentioned in my last post, I spent three weeks in Doha helping with the evacuation of Afghanistan.  In the space of just about a month, more than 120,000 individuals left Afghanistan. Roughly half of them passed through Doha on their way to other places: home, for those of dual citizenship; locations set up to process visas and humanitarian parole; in the end most are in the USA or will be.  The experience was physically, mentally and emotionally challenging and for all the things that went right, it's the things that went wrong that stick the strongest.

I returned home from Doha and spent about 10 days with my family before heading back out; this time to Boston, where I spent 10 days with my father in the aftermath of his wife's passing.  

Oh, and Terry broke his foot back in August so he hobbles around in a special boot.  No fall hikes for him, and his ski season will start a bit late.

It's been a hell of a few months.

Sunday, September 19, 2021

Doha

 I'm back from three weeks in Doha helping move Afghan evacuees from Arrival Point #1 (Doha) to either Final Destination (for American citizens who just needed to get home) or Next Stop (for Afghans who need to be vetted and processed at some other location, like Germany, better suited for long-ish term living before being able to - most likely - move to the U.S.). Still processing the experience, but wanted to mark it.

Tuesday, August 24, 2021

And a-camping we go: Rampart Creek


Part of the mad scramble for campsites means taking what you can get in terms of dates, or in terms of campgrounds.  My second priority was to camp along the Icefields - there are so many cool hikes but they are too far to get to from home. So, for this week of vacation we spent 4 days at Two Jack, came home for a night of showering, laundry, and repacking the cooler, then set off for 5 days at Rampart Creek.

The two campsites could not have been more different from each other. Two Jack is thinly treed and the sites are very close to each other.  At Rampart each site is nestled among trees and there is plenty of space between them. Two Jack was so civilized - running water and flush toilets!  Rampart has one spigot of potable water at the junction of all three campsite loops. For similarities: both places were a million times warmer than any of last year's camping experiences (a full 1/4 of the clothing we brought we never used, lots of long johns and woolens), both had really bad smoke and fire bans in effect. And mosquitoes.  We ended up cutting the trip short by one day due to the smoke and running out of bug spray.

First hike: Wilcox Pass.  Supposedly beautiful views, and I can believe it.  We did spend a bit of time playing in a patch of snow we came across, and when Terry and I took a short detour to a flowing stream the kids watched a prairie dog scamper about.  There were pretty wildflowers all along the path and in the distance.

Second hike: Parker Ridge. Similarly probably beautiful, lovely wildflowers, similar extreme smoke.

Last hike: For the aforementioned reasons, we decided to cut the trip a bit short and head home. So on the fourth day we broke up the camp, packed the cars, and headed over to Wildfowl Lake where our last hike of the trip - Chephren Lake - would begin.  It was the family highlight, mostly because the kids have become allergic to elevation and this one was barely up from flat. We usually pace 20 minutes per km, and for this it was a solid 15.  The hike itself is mostly a flat walk in the woods - so meh in my book. But the lake itself is stunning.  And because the mountains rise right out of its waters, they are close enough to photograph and actually see something.  On our way down we ran into a group that was going up to swim in that water - again, Canadians made of sterner stuff than us.

Bear: There were signs up all over the campground alerting folks that there was a bear in the area.  According to the chalkboard by the water source, it had last been seen 5 days ago.  But apparently all the good berries are now ripe because between 9:30-10:30am each morning the folks camping in sites closer to the water than us has sightings. One day on our way back from a hike we passed a car with its hazards on, pulled not-quite-over enough on the shoulder a couple of km from the campsite and Terry noted there was a bear the car had pulled over to watch. I only saw a dark blur as we drove past.  It's probably the same bear.

Sunsets:  It was a lot like Goldilocks' lunch. The first night we waited too long to wander over toward the creek to get a sunset photo and the sun was already behind the mountain by the time we got there.  So our second night we went extra early, but got so bug bitten we had to give up before it got the real fiery reds.  Third night was just right, and Terry was able to capture some pretty pictures.



Sunday, August 22, 2021

And a-camping we go: Two Jack Lake

 

When we were watching and refreshing the Canada Parks web site like concert tickets were about to go on sale, our strategy was clear: we wanted to camp at Two Jack Lake.  We've driven past it a million times, wandered along its shores from the Day Use Area and even ice skated across it. As Terry was 6000-something in line, we did not get our first choice of dates, or second choice, but we got dates that we could make work and we were thrilled.

Well, smoke from the wildfires. And even though it's so dry there are the aforementioned wildfires, and a fire ban so we couldn't sit by the campfire at the end of the day, nobody told the mosquitoes.  We had very recently bought a screen tent for over the picnic table and that paid for itself during the course of the trip, even if we had paid three times the amount for it.  Poor Zoltan looks like he has chicken pox from the bites and that was with the mesh doing a very good job keeping the 'skeeters out.

Our plan for Two Jack involved canoeing and swimming.  Except we didn't end up swimming because we had pretty well cooled off by the time we waded into knee-high water.  Canadians are made of hardier stuff than us (one of Terry's colleagues had camped just a week or two before and had done quite a bit of swimming).  We did get out in the canoe quite a bit though, in all kinds of 1, 2 and 3 formations - the canoe does not fit all four of us anymore.  Alex will deny this until her adulthood at least, but she enjoyed her solo adventures.  She'd be grumpy and grumbling, paddle away, and return 45 minutes latter full of smiles.  But don't tell her, she "hated every minute of camping."

There was the loon that I swear was mocking us, letting us get almost close enough to see it through the glacial-clear water when it ducked under, but then zipping away before we actually got that close ... and popping up on the other side of the canoe + 50 meters.