Slipsliding Away on Dog Mountain

The stereotype of a French-accented fur trapper named Jacques, sporting a red plaid jacket, trudging feverishly through the snow on footwear resembling tennis rackets was my vision of snowshoeing.

The whole notion has a pioneering quality about it – even a romantic sentiment. With Christmas a few weeks away, it seemed like an appropriate time to try it out.

So it was with some amusement that we were introduced to modern-day snowshoes – slick looking, light-weight contraptions with rubber straps that adjust comfortably over one’s hiking boots with metal cleats on the underside acting as temporary anchors in the snow.

Arriving at the top of Mount Seymour with adjustments made to our footwear, all that was left to do was walk to the Dog Mountain Trail.

The first thing I learned about snowshoeing was putting trust into action.

The trails had been blanketed in snow but after a week of freezing temperatures and no fresh snow, the ground was icy. This was no flat, wide trail – it was undulating, winding and quite narrow in parts.

My snowshoeing technique needed immediate honing. This meant trusting that the cleats on the underside of the snowshoe would hold me in place as I made my way forward.

Once in stride we found ourselves taking the time to look and enjoy the natural environment around us. It was snowing very lightly and amazingly quiet.

After a kilometre we reached First Lake, frozen over, but with the tell-tale signs of other snowshoers and hikers.

Eventually we reached the rocky summit of Dog Mountain. Despite the wintry day, the view over the North Shore mountains and the City below was breathtaking - Stanley Park, Lions Gate Bridge and Point Grey clearly visible.

The buildings of the downtown core looking amazingly static. It was as though the city was devoid of people, and just a series of concrete statues.

The reality we knew was that down there in the metropolis it would be a cacophony of humanity in search of that perfect gift. Parking lots would be full to overflowing, people walking the streets with a glazed look on their faces. The joy of Christmas.

Up here on Dog Mountain the air was fresh, the vista below us a reminder of the world we had temporarily left behind.

Eating our lunch at 10:00 a.m. we greeted other snowshoers and their dogs and began the return trip. For some reason my trust of metal cleats had temporarily left my consciousness. I fell a few times on the downhill portions of the trail. Our leader reminded me to stand tall and look forward. I did, and eventually we returned to the ski hill and the parking lot.

With aching joints from the day’s activities I will admit to a slight mal de raquette – but oh the pure joy of being out there.

Jacques would have been proud.

Harp Scratchings 11 - One in a Million

I was six years’ old and my sister had just been born. Mum and Eileen Dawn Julia were in Summerfield Nursing Home and Auntie Wina had come to the Harp to help out.

I was thrilled to have a baby sister and with Wina’s encouragement made great pains to write to Mum about it, telling her that all was well at the Harp and that I was getting regular bedtime stories.

Probably one of my first recollections during that stay was the morning I asked Wina to put a blue ribbon in my hair. Standing in the kitchen I remember her patiently taking a few stabs at creating the perfect bow before I was satisfied.

On future visits to the Harp, Wina and Ernie would often bring vegetables from their expansive garden - or sometimes a very special treat - a home-made coffee sponge cake with icing that melted in your mouth.

As I grew up I loved going to stay with Wina and Ernie at Rectory Cottage in Eardisley. While “the Cottage” was one end of a large rambling residence adjoining Eardisley Church, their home consisted of oversized rooms with high ceilings, a wooden staircase and upstairs floorboards that squeaked and groaned as you walked across them.

It was an adventure to stay there, and sometimes when no one was looking I would cautiously turn a doorknob on a door that had been permanently locked as the dividing line between the Cottage and the Rectory itself – half hoping someone had unlocked the door and I could investigate what lay behind it.

I remember summer’s evenings when it seemed to take forever to get dark. Lying in bed I would listen to the church clock strike the hour.

One memory firmly entrenched in my mind is the episode of the cheese rind. Sitting down to supper with Wina and Ernie, Ernie had carefully pared away the rind from the cheese I had been offered. Not realizing, I chose the rind instead of the cheese and spent the next few minutes trying to chew what seemed like a piece of leather. When this was discovered, Ernie and Wina teased me quite a bit and the cheese rind story stuck for a number of years.

When her husband, Ernie was alive, the pair did so much for the family. I will always remember returning home from Toronto. Ernie came to Liverpool to meet me from the Empress of Canada.

I was so happy to see the family that in the excitement I left one of my suitcases behind in the luggage hall. We were halfway through the Mersey Tunnel before I made the discovery, and Ernie in true fashion didn’t miss a beat, turning the car around and returning to the dock to retrieve the missing bag.

Time went by, as it does. I returned to Canada where I have lived for most of my life. The baby in Grannie's arms - this was a christening picture - now lives with his own family in New Zealand.

Auntie Wina is in her nineties now and has outlived her siblings. Despite the frailties of age, she maintains a positive attitude and continues to be an inspiration to everyone who has the good fortune to meet her. I am so grateful she was there for me when I was growing up.

Just feast your eyes on a very classy lady attending the wedding this year of the daughter of good friends and next door neighbours, Paul and Sue.

Wina, you are one in a million.

As a postscript, it is with great sadness that we mark 29 March 2011 as the day Wina slipped away. Rest in peace dear one.