Berg Lake Trail: Part Two.
Our second day at Berg Lake was a little more leisurely. I had every intention of letting my body rest, but for me, sleeping in was impossible when the world came alive. I woke up a little after 5:30am, gently unzipping the tent to peel away our “door” and peek at the outside world, gingerly facing the cold.
Berg Lake Trail: Part One.
“Do you guys do this for fun?”
These were the words uttered by a group of girls we passed on our way down from Berg Lake. By that point, we were already a quarter of the way into our 20km descent, having already spent 4 days living at the foot of Mount Robson, the Canadian Rockies’ tallest peak (3,954m above sea level).
Juliet.
I want to tell you about this woman; my aunt Juliet, Julie, or “Bibi” as she was known in our family. I want to tell you what I tried to tell everyone at her memorial, whilst choking back tears, my whole body trying to contain all I was feeling to no avail.
Camping.
A spontaneous camping weekend in late July, trying to make the most of the summer. When you’re surrounded by mountain beauty, getting away is quick and easy (and only half an hour from home); there are few excuses not to get up and go, and yet so often we all let life get in the way of the experiences, moments and opportunities that truly matter to us.
Lillian Lake.
This summer was fleeting, in a vastly different way to that of last year’s. This year felt a lot like treading water, taking things one day, one step at a time. Before I knew it, it was mid-July, and my backcountry trip to Berg Lake was fast approaching. All the glamorous ideas I had about training for the trip went out the window while I focused on working and applying for permanent residency.
A walk to a glacier.
A memorable day for many a reason, although I find myself wishing that one of those reasons was not that my bear spray accidentally went off as I was putting my pack on. Thankfully, it only mostly affected my hands and we carried on.
A lake in late June.
A moody, rainy day in late June. Our summer in the Rockies looked mostly like this, but the rain helped to keep the smoke from the wildfires at bay, for a time.
An early winter.
I was about to say that I wasn’t sure why blogging has been so hard for me in the last year, but I do know why. It’s hard to believe it’s taken me a year to blog these very precious memories with my brother and sister. My siblings are like pieces of my heart that only came to form after they were born; two of my safest places, they carry the parts of me I often cannot. They know me inside-out and they love me anyway.
Kananaskis Country.
This time last year—a hike with my siblings and my friends Bek & Chloe, enjoying our usual dance with winter in Kananaskis Country.
Alex.
6 months
In many ways, and in the biggest of ways, this year has been a reset. When I think about why this reset feels more akin to having the ground lifted out from underneath me with no safe place to land, vs. a reset that is rejuvenating, clarifying, and a slate wiped clean, I know that it is because it is intertwined with the ever-complicated emotions surrounding loss.
Behind the hiatus
This has been my longest hiatus from writing on the blog in years. Today, the words flow, so here I am, ready to share some of those swirling thoughts with you.
Mount Engadine.
We didn't know it at the time, but this would be our last weekend away together as a couple. In my 2017 year-in-review, I wrote briefly about how we struggled; how we worked hard to maintain our love and our friendship after months of bitterness that had been making its way into the smallest spaces of our relationship for what may have been the last 2-3 years.
Kootenay National Park.
The year of becoming: 2017.
When I sit down to write this post every December, it always takes me some time to collect myself and my memories of the year. When I write, I try to say what I mean, and mean what I say. Some things are often hard to put into words—and to write from a place of authenticity requires pause.
Kinney Lake Trail.
At the start of October, Martin's mother, uncle and brother visited us and the Rockies. Apart from showing them some of my favourite hikes around Banff & Canmore, we were lucky enough to join them up north in Jasper for a few days.
Celine & Carl in Canada.
Photos from when my brother & sister visited me during my first year in Canada.
My brother, 21.
21 years ago I sat with my 3-year-old sister in the waiting room of a hospital in Auckland, New Zealand. I would be late going to school if this was going to take a long time, I thought. I fell asleep. Upon waking I panicked, first checking that my sister was still with me.
A summer & fall in the mountains.
It's going to be hard for me to put into words the depth of my love for the mountains. The unexplained affinity I have for these tall piles of ancient rock and how it is that I'm drawn to them in the first place, as a woman born in an archipelago of 7,000 islands who spent her entire life in countries surrounded by the ocean (amongst zero mountains).
Tent Ridge, Kananaskis.
Every week in summer had me asking the same question: “which trail should I try this weekend?”. Cue messaging all my friends to see who was free to join, and behold, a plan would emerge. Tent Ridge in Kananaskis Country will forever remain one of the best hikes I've ever done.