Tales of the beautiful everyday from the North
The annual road trip south
24 hour drives through the bright nights of northern summers have, over the last 8 years, become one of my favourite things in the world. Hotels never felt necessary because I could sleep just when I felt tired, which was rarely ever. I loved all the light, open space, and total freedom way too much.
This year was the same, but different. There was so much to see, so many places to stop. So many mountains, so many lakes, and so much wildlife. So we included an overnight in Fort St. John on the way down.
Our departure was not set in stone, but at 3:30 in the morning, all that remained was wrapping up a couple stollen along with other baking from the night before, re-warming our non-alcoholic Glühwein, and taking our blue IKEA bag full of snacks and goodies out to the car.
The sky was already bright, and although we weren’t driving all the way through in one day, we were still staring down a 1,300 kilometre day one, which we expectantly turned into an 18 hour day with truly dozens of wildlife sightings and goodness knows how many other photo and coffee stops. Some stops we planned, like Rancheria Falls and the Liard Hot Springs, but far more were spontaneous requiring u-turns more often than not. If we weren’t careful, we would have spent more hours in the shoulders off the side of the Alaska Highway watching bears, caribou, dozens or hundreds of bison, mountain goats and moose than we would have actually driving.
“Oh my god, oh my god, I’ll call you back! Baby bears!”
Nearing the end of day one, about halfway between Fort Nelson and Fort St. John, we were on the phone to my mum when I stopped her mid sentence with a dramatic “Oh my god, oh my god, I’ll call you back! Baby bears!”
It was what we had wished to see since we left this morning, and at the side of the highway, a mama bear and her three cubs. We pulled way off into the shoulder and just watched, photographed, and took video. It was the best.
Asking the real questions — IKEA or the Icefields Parkway
At breakfast in our hotel at the beginning of day two, we still had not decided on our route to Calgary. A far more direct route via Edmonton that would include a convenient lunch stop/shop with better stock availability than Calgary, or a several hour detour through a mostly smoky Icefields Parkway. We were never going to have all the time we wanted for the Icefields Parkway this time, plus we hate summer, so we knew we’d be back eventually anyway. But in the end, we decided on the Icefields Parkway and it was more beautiful than I had remembered, and a quick Click & Collect order from IKEA Calgary to secure the lowest stock items made this the right decision for sure.
Sunset in Calgary at last
The Long Road
Decorating blind, again
Now sitting in Scotiabank’s my little apartment, I have owned exactly 2 homes in my 35 years. Both of them I bought sight unseen, from several thousand kilometres away. So wandering the showrooms and marketplace at IKEA, and burning my fingertips on my phone screen from spending so much time in their app, to furnish a place I hadn’t actually seen, wasn’t new or particularly surprising. It was in a way my bliss, and I loved every second of it.
Finding space for all of that love and bliss in a little Ford Escape wasn’t the most straight forward task. I knew in a worst case scenario, I could just ship up a few boxes and that wouldn’t be the end of the world. But I didn’t need to save any space for anything, it didn’t matter how ridiculous the inside of my car looked. There aren’t any prizes for unused space, so I may as well just try to take it all. I unpacked individual IKEA items to save on space and weight. I stuffed clothes into lampshades. I padded the back window with pillows to keep a floor mirror and ceiling track light from going through it on acceleration and bumps. Plants were boxed up in bunches and stacked. It was the culmination of nearly a decade of playing tetris with suitcases at YVR.
A few highways bumps made me bite my lip hard and turn my head back at my porcelain bathroom sink, as if I could see it, wondering if I had just rendered it useless. But thankfully not. Not that I was ever driving very fast anyway. I had litres per hundred records to set.
"There aren't any prizes for unused space, so I may as well just try to take it all."
Beauty anxiety and cosy nights
Long drives soothe me. They aren’t a chore, they’ve never felt like a thorn in my side or something I just needed to get over with. They’re one of the best parts of life, and in my dream car, going up through one of the most beautiful places in the world, it was something I was more than ready to enjoy every second of. I just wish there were more McDonald’s for their baked apple pies and black coffee.
So more than 9 weeks behind schedule, it was finally departure day for the Yukon after a multiple-time extended summer in BC. Hotels were booked, cancelled, and re-booked. It was a running joke in my mum’s house that every conversation we had about how my apartment is coming along in Whitehorse, the year of completion got exponentially more ridiculous.
"Don't you go falling in love with my ZZ plant now, because I'm taking it with me when I leave here in 2054."
But now I was staring down another 2,200 kilometres, a distance I’d been used to doing straight through. I would this time spread it out over 3 days. 8 hour drives easily became 14 hour days between coffee breaks, emergency photo stops, drone launches, and deep breaths in the sweet forest air.
The weather changed often and dramatically. Golden hour light took my breath away, touching the very tops of trees or peaks of mountains. Blue hour felt never ending and never more beautiful. It was the best of summer, every moment of it. The beauty was almost too much for my chest.
Moving on
The middle of the night wake up and bury my frozen face back into a warmer blankets have been still alive and well. Cold nights and even colder mornings stayed unrelenting, but hot coffees with breakfast had never felt better in my hands.
These final days were full of walks around dirt roads nestled tightly into nature and time spent deep in the forest. Violent wind, rain and thunderstorms blew through both by day and night. I woke often to the comforting sound of the fire being stoked, which led to brief moments of bliss seeing beautiful twilight skies and sunrises for the few seconds I could keep my eyes open before falling back asleep. A late evening in front of Canadian football, America’s Got Talent, or HGTV was never passed on.
“It’s the sunset after a storm blows through kind of crap.”
This was a time of more than one ending, where winds constantly blew to bring so many things together. Photography, books, sleep, baking, so much about nature and all which can be translated from ‘hygge’ have been everything for me.
I wish I could give this to you in larger format, because the light on the train across the lake is so spectacular.
The simple things
There is just something so perfect here. And I know you maybe tell me about the clothes drying all crunchy instead of soft from the dryer machine, but this smell of nature in your laundry, the feeling of the clothes after… You cannot find that from any other way. The smell and the sunlight, the way they blow in the breeze. It’s part of the simplest pleasures and more countryside life for me.
How I would love a little light wood floored and white interior, red exterior countryside home on some forested land with a small garden, and of course my clothesline to use from +30° to -30°.
Heightened senses and the unrelenting perfection of nature
Warm days in passing sunshine have given way to consistently cold nights. Being woken up in the middle of the night to pounding rain on the metal roof or strong winds blowing through the birch forests, rolling over and feeling my cold nose and toes is quintessentially this cabin for me. Isn’t it just the ultimate cosiness to feel that cold and curl up harder, pulling the blanket right up to your face and tucking it under your feet at the other end?
Mornings begin in that uncomfortable minute between coming out from the covers in my pyjamas to sitting in front of the lighted wood stove downstairs. Coffee and home baked cinnamon rolls follow.
Late evening walks and floats on the lake, both by paddle and gas motor, have showcased nature in truly special ways. The smells of the forests here are something that can never ever, ever fully be understood and appreciated without being experienced. It is truly divine.
So while I still strongly crave those endless hours of sleep, this is the beginning that I very much needed.
Perfect afternoon fika
