Cascade Mountain

Made it to the mountains with two friends a few weeks back. Scrambled up Cascade Mountain. I've stared at this summit from Banff Ave. for many years but this was my first trip to the top.

dry island buffalo jump

When planning your next adventure into the great outdoors, don't forget about the prairies. I'm sure most folks don't equate the prairies to wilderness and the great outdoors, which is a shame. Maybe it's because there is so little natural prairie left. Or maybe it's because the prairies are not as in-your-face with their beauty as the mountains and the average person is too distracted, unobservant, or lazy to be captivated by something so subtle. How else do you explain the popularity of reality television? I want to challenge the notion of the prairies as flat and boring by giving you Dry Island Buffalo Jump Provincial Park.

The word prairie tends to invoke images of farm yards and crop fields stretching to the horizon, which is what you'll find today in many places that were once natural prairie. These landscapes have their own beauty. They feel quaint while simultaneously feeling vast, which is a big part of the prairie allure. Wallace Stegner (1960) helped petition for the preservation of wilderness in America by drawing, in part, on similar images of a Saskatchewan prairie from his childhood.

"We need wilderness preserved... because it was the challenge against which our character as a people was formed. The reminder and the reassurance that it is still there is good for our spiritual health... A prairie [landscape] big enough to carry the eye clear to the sinking, rounding horizon, can be as lonely and grand and simple in its forms as the sea. It is as good a place as any for the wilderness experience to happen; the vanishing prairie is as worth preserving for the wilderness idea as the alpine forest... We simply need that wild country available to us, even if we never do more than drive to its edge and look in."

I encourage you to drive to the edge of Dry Island and look in because the view is spectacular.

I also encourage you to explore further

because, like the arctic tundra and alpine meadow, there are small-scale wonders waiting to be discovered in the many pockets and folds of this country.

And while you're there, why not explore nearby Rumsey Natural Area. This classic knob and kettle landscape is home to mule deer, waterfowl, and numerous species of prairie songbirds. They're not hard to find, just open your mind and look.

walk across Canada

It's National Wildlife Week in Canada and the Canadian Wildlife Federation wants you to show your support by going for a walk. Their hope is to cross the country. So get out of your chair and go do your part. Our wildlife is waiting.

spring is... coming

My eggs told me this was going to be a good weekend. Turns out my eggs were right - 100 km in two days makes for a very good weekend.

They weren't a quick 100k. It's still very much winter here and the trails are very icy. It even snowed a bit.

That ice-fast boat suggests wintery conditions will be here for awhile.


The migrants have begun arriving but I can't image what they're eating. There's still a half meter of snow on the ground.

This porcupine has it figure out. It wasn't so pleased that I was so close but, judging by the way it just looked at the ground, it wasn't concerned enough to jump. It soon went back to stripping the bark from the tree.

Destructive buggers.

elk island national park

Located less than an hour from Edmonton, Elk Island National Park is a perfect place for a winter run.

The main road is free of ice, sees very little traffic, has a shoulder when a car does pass, and the speed limit is 60km/hr. It's also 20km from the north gate to the south gate, so it's the perfect distance for ultra training.

Compared to the city, Elk Island is Shangri-la. There is no traffic drone, no aggressive drivers, no planes and helicopters overhead, no oblivious pedestrians, and no off-leash dogs. You can actually hear birds and squirrels going about their business in the roadside brush. There is other wildlife, too. Today I saw a Ruffed Grouse in the top of a sapling, a coyote hiding in the bushes hoping that it wasn't seen, and several bison. This small individual was up to its elbows digging for forage.

The park was uncommonly quiet today, which is not surprising given the frigid temperature - it did get up to -13C at one point but the windchill kept the realized temperature in the -20 to -29C range.

I stopped at the south gate for a snack and a picture and my pants froze solid! I still had 7km back to the car. I bet I'm not smiling under that mask.

Still, it was a good run and a great day for a run. I know I'm smiling in this picture!

my other life

While I'm an adventurer at heart I'm a biologist by trade. At one time adventure and biology went hand-in-hand. I once spent many months of each year living and working outdoors. Adventure was 24/7. Not so much any more. It seems the longer I spend in this career the further disconnected I become from what attracted me to the job in the first place - being outside.

To break the monotony of thesis writing and to remind myself why I wanted to become a biologist I was happy to take a 10-day job counting birds at Calling Lake in Alberta's boreal forest. This field site is luxury compared to many I've worked at - there are buildings to escape from bad weather,

a lake for bathing,
the study grids are well-marked, the birds are plentiful, and there are few mosquitoes this early in the year. Best of all there are no people, cars, phones, television... It is so peaceful.

First on the work list was clearing trails to access the plots.
Next, a little survey practice
and confirming the identities of any unknown species.
Mud was to be the theme this year.
Never have I experienced a worse road than the Calling Lake road. The slightest amount of rain creates grease.
An ATV with paddle tires results in mud everywhere.
Images from the field. A Swainson's Thrush.
Wolf print on the road outside camp. I heard a pack calling at 3 am a few days later on the lake shore less than 100 m from my cabin.
Bracket fungi on a poplar.
Marsh marigold.
I guess frogs can drown.
Beaver dam flooding a pipeline, which made for a long detour to access three plots.
Forest reflection on another beaver pond.

I enjoyed my time in the bush and I found the much needed motivation to return to writing. I also realized that, while I miss the field, I don't necessarily miss field work (certainly not consecutive months of it). The rain, mud, bugs, bears, heavy backpack, thick bush, rose thorns, 4 o'clock mornings, and 14-hour days are exhausting, and not in a good-ultra-marathon-training way. Speaking of which, it's time to get back to running.