'We've all got a story to tell, whether we whisper or yell'
One of our guides noted that countless writers have visited the Grand Canyon and have said that language is inadequate to describe the experience. As I reflect on my first experience in the Canyon, I can't help but feel the same way, and to be equally compelled to make my own attempt at the impossible…
Around the 20th of May, 2006, I left my abnormal life in Quito, Ecuador to explore the enormous continent of South America before time consumed the opportunity. I had been living and traveling in indigenous areas of the Amazon for the previous 3 months, and as much as I loved it, my bag slowly began to pack itself, my mind became full of dreams and my maps covered in ink. I decided to head down to Peru on an Amazonian tributary known as the Rio Napo. For around 1000 kms, it snakes its way through some of the most remote rainforest in the Amazon basin before spitting into the river Amazon just below Iquitos, Peru. A Danish guy who heard I was doing this trip asked if he could join me. I knew that there were no scheduled boats, and that one could be stranded for weeks, or be forced to pay exorbitant sums for short rides on leaky boats, so after a bit of hesitation, I agreed...
Pulling up to Little Turtle Lake, I step out of the car and take a couple deep breaths of the crisp, fresh air that I will be surrounded by for the next four days. Under a bright sky of mixed clouds, the shoreline of the lake is splotched with the green of the conifers and the yellow, red, and brown of the deciduous trees, already a bit past their peak of autumn colour. After all the difficulties faced over the course of planning this trip, finally all that remains is to toss my bag and barrel in the canoe and push off...
The image of Half Dome, an iconic landmark of Yosemite National Park in California, is displayed on the Macintosh computer screens in Bata Library at Trent University. Passing these computers now, I’m taken back to a year ago when I first entered the library. It was early September 2015 and I was just beginning my Master of Arts Degree in English.
I’ve always used PC computers and I was surprised when I saw Half Dome glowing on the Macintosh screens. But it wasn’t my ignorance of this detail that made me acutely aware of the desktop background.
Two weeks before school started, I had stood at the very top of that iconic peak, perched out on an overhang with my arms triumphantly raised in the air...
As part of Algonquin College’s (Ontario, Canada) Outdoor Adventure Program, students are introduced to all things adventure related – the kinds of activities everyone wants to try but often never get around to. I often describe the program as a shotgun experience with variety of different activities, giving us the skills to decide what we want to specialize in the future. The 2-year program ends with a culminating project or advanced expedition, a chance for the students to venture out on their own expedition style trip to truly test what was learned both in and outside of class.
I came into the program with a university degree from Trent University, a keen interest in road cycling, and no idea that bikepacking even existed...
Have you ever found yourself excited for an upcoming trip and at the same time completely ignorant of what you would actually be facing? This is the situation I found myself in when I signed up for a trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon in 2013.
In 2012, a group of friends had placed their names in the lottery for a permit to raft through Grand Canyon National Park...
My ears had never heard such a wonderful sound.
I had just plunged into the warm tropical waters off the coast of Belize and I could hear it, the clicks and whistles of a pod of dolphins.
The dive boat had stopped for lunch after a morning of scuba diving and everyone was taking a minute to rest and recuperate. On the other hand, I was eager to get back into the water and ate as quickly as I could. I knew that there was snorkeling in the shallows where the boat was anchored and couldn't risk ...
My legs were locking up and I was beginning to regret the extra food and drink that I had packed prior to leaving Edmonton. My daughter, nearly one-year-old, sat clinging to her pack, her head drooping with fatigue. The three hours in the pack were starting to wear on her senses and the energetic noises and movements that filled the first couple hours were starting to wane. My wife was keeping a positive outlook and provided the motivation I needed to push every step forward. My brother and sister-in-law were not far behind and had jumped onto my hair-brained idea to head into the mountains without much hesitation. Most people thought we were crazy for booking an alpine cabin for a vacation with our toddler. But her name is Sierra - to me, nothing felt more right.
