Tag results for: Camping

Were it not for our friend Karol, Magellan and I would have stayed in Waterton Park’s townsite campground, Rove-Inn side-by-side with 237 other rigs, moving each night for our four-day stay because it was so busy we couldn’t book consecutive nights.

“Have a look at Police Outpost,” Karol said. “It was one of our favourite places to camp and it’s only a 35-minute drive from Waterton. Don always said it was one of the places he wanted his ashes to be spread.”

One quick look at the website for Police Outpost Provincial Park and Magellan clicked to another screen to cancel our reservations at the warehouse campsite and book site #35 at Police Outpost.

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Conehead, Rove-Inn’s most remote (and perhaps most memorable) camp spot.

On Rennell Sound, Haida Gwaii, the only point on the west coast of Graham Island accessible by vehicle.

Our destination, 15 km in, first-come, first-serve, no reservations, no potable water, no internet, and no cell-phone coverage: the single spot at Gregory Beach; or Conehead, further on with two campsites and an outhouse.

Accessible, yes, but only on logging roads. And only between 7am and 5pm if you have a CB radio (we don’t). Otherwise you must follow someone who has a CB radio, or travel at other times. (5pm for us.) Prohibited are RVs and boat trailers. We were warned: “Surface conditions on the Rennell Sound Forest Service road are not the best—the current condition of the road can be confirmed at the Visitor Centre in Queen Charlotte City.” Magellan checked: all good.

Another warning: “The final descent from the alpine down to the shore is a startling 25% gradient, one of the steepest public roads in North America.” Magellan dismissed the cautioning.

The wilderness for two nights, a visit to the renowned Bonanza Beach—relax, there’s nothing to worry about he smiled confidently.

And for a time, he was right.

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Once upon a time at the edge of a forest beside a river there was a magical place, Glenora, a golden valley in the northern wilds of British Columbia. Even its name had the lilt of birdsong, Glenora: glenn, the Gaelic word for valley; and ora, Spanish for gold.

One Sunday in the summer warmth of June, a man called Magellan and his wife Spice decided they wanted to camp at Glenora after hearing about its charms earlier that afternoon.

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In mid-June, I drove from Latitude 49 near the American border to Latitude 69 at Tuktoyaktuk on the Beaufort Sea, rescuing Spice along the way from the miners at Dawson City.

Connecting the dots on the 9200 km return trip to Tuktoyaktuk revealed a set of spectacles. The natural spectacles and our impressions from the people we met gave us a whole new view of the North and its people. Read more

The Sealy Tarns Steps hike

When we read about the Sealy Tarns Trek in Scott Cook’s NZ Frenzy hiking guide, I thought, “No way. This seems too much like the Grouse Grind in North Vancouver.”

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Camping in Oman

What was one of my biggest fears in venturing off-road by ourselves through the wadis, beaches and deserts of Oman? Scorpions and camel spiders! I didn’t want to become a part of the food chain in a foreign country.

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