Stories

Brian Hamilton, our captain, tells the tale of the Kinosoo, or “big fish” for which Cold Lake is named. Legend has it that a giant fish bit a Dene warrior’s canoe in two as he paddled across French Bay to see his beloved.

#TakeItToTheLake My heart thumps rapidly as I start the Sea-Doo’s ignition. It’s my first time jet skiing and I’m excited, but a little nervous. After the safety talk, I wonder if I should be wearing a wetsuit, or if I’m going to fall off, then relax as I look around the lake. The sun is shining, the lake is placid, and the water is warm. We couldn’t ask for a better day to go jet skiing.

Tendrils of smoke curl from the kindling I’ve just set alight. Soon, the slow burning embers ignite and tiny dragon tongues lick the sky. Shawn Perry sets a pot over the fire, preparing to make tea from the leaves we’ve just harvested.

Flying high over the waves, Nathalie Senez takes a plunging dive. Momentarily, she pops up again. Mere seconds later she’s back in the air. Senez is a talented athlete, no doubt, but she’s no superhero - she’s a flyboarder.

There is something I felt while exploring Sonoma in the Arizona heat that I did not expect to experience once again in the Pacific Northwest.

“I think we can get a bit closer,” Jamie says, and we paddle as silently as we can towards a huge American pelican. Soon, we are just metres away from the giant bird, and he looks at us curiously wondering what we’re up to.

The pike’s tail thrashes, splashing the sides of the boat. It’s a strong 10-pounder and it’s putting up a fight. This is the eighth fish on our lines in less than an hour but it’s my first. Not just my first today; it’s my first ever.

As we cross the causeway to Sir Winston Churchill Provincial Park’s Big Island, we stop to admire the view. Sunshine glints off the water and fishing boats, while cyclists cross the causeway. On the island road, the truck in front of us pulls over and waves us on.

Looking for a place to do just that this summer that also includes a lovely drive towards the mountains? Then you have to hit up the Cochrane Farmers' Market on Saturday mornings this summer.

There is something about paddling any distance in a canoe or a kayak. The sound of the water kissing the sides of the boat, the call of the birds that ripple with the waves and the scenery that changes with every paddle stroke. Its therapeutic, calming and some things challenging.

Epic peaks, endless shorelines, tree-clad valleys, thundering waterfalls or silent and secluded alpine lakes. That’s what much of Canada is.

Yeah, we Canadians are a quiet lot, aren’t we? Western Canadians even more so than the rest of the country. Maybe it’s because in comparison, the western cities are so young.

In front of me, on a polished long table in a refurbished industrial building on the outskirts of Medicine Hat, sits a piece of wood cut in the shape of the province of Alberta.

“It feels like candy in my pocket,” Deanna Brett said with childlike enthusiasm as she tucked away another piece of turquoise sea glass from the tumbling surf at our feet.

Sitting on a beach, it’s hard to resist dragging your fingers in swirling patterns to create your own mini Zen garden. The feel of the grains on your fingertips and the heat of the sand is very soothing. 

Growing up on the St. Lawrence River, gave Liz Fleming the opportunity to dip the paddle into the river on many occasions. “My dad and I would silently slip the kayaks into the marshes and weeds to sneak up on the wildlife.

Can there be harmony between a writer and a photographer while out on an assignment? What if the writer wants a photo of one scene but the photographer is adamant that the photo should be of something else?

I ride a road bike. But what I’m not good at is mountain biking. I need to see an obstacle way in advance so I can calculate my options. Left or right of a pebble on the shoulder of a road is about all I can handle.

Moss won’t gather and roots wont grow under the feet of Nancy Shields. Just following her on Instagram (@nochancenanc) shows she is constantly trekking with a camera dangling from her neck.