Flashback Fur-iday – Shady, Secret Places

I realize it’s Saturday, not Fur-iday, and that I missed last Fur-iday altogether. I have no explanation beyond summer brain. You’ve heard of it, right? When the weather is warm, the evenings are long, and the mind just keeps sliding into vacation mode? All a guy wants to do is lie somewhere in a nice, shady spot with green leaves rustling overhead. Aaaahhhh….summer.

And the joy of summer and shady places has got me thinking about Logan, who had such a good final summer here on the farm, in his new yard that we dubbed Logie-land.

Surveying Logie-land from the shade of the apple tree.

To be honest, I thought the old guy had a slipped cog or two with his obsession for hiding in bushes and sleeping under trailers, some sort of canine paranoia that made him hide. “Why not just lie out in the open where someone might come by and pet you or drop food?” was always my question. Logan’s answer was …

For some of you sun lovers, that (30 degrees Celsius) may not sound terribly hot, but try wearing a black fur coat complete with leggings instead of shorts and flip flops. I guarantee you’ll have a different hot weather threshold.

March 2017 – Hot Times in the Desert 

Under the horse trailer in Kananaskis.
Under Sid the fifth wheel at Lake Mojave.

When the fence around the yard got built last spring, Logan was pretty disappointed that none of the trailers had been fenced in, so whenever he was outside the fenced area, he was under one. At least T always knew where to find him.

Inside the fence, he created a network of trails under the shrubs and through the tall grass, with little hidden, green nests all along his route.

I’m working on my twentieth (or is it twenty-first?) den, I have the full spectrum of sunny versus shady places to nap, there’s a resident prairie dog to keep in check, and so much to observe in my half-acre paradise.

July 2018 – Gone Camping 

One of Logan’s favourite dens in Logie-land.

If you’d have asked Logan, “Why so many dens?” His answer would have been …

I like that hidden away feeling, but I never want to be too far from the people and the action.

March 2017 – It’s Not Only Birds that Nest 

It was simple, he needed a den near each of the places his people hung out.

I turned ten in January and one of things I’m noticing is that I just don’t have much tolerance for heat. I used to love lying out in the sun. Still do on a cool day but, even then, it’s not long before I’m panting up a storm and seeking shade.

On our latest trip to BC it was pretty warm about half the days and I finally figured out that my old friend was onto something—namely shade and undisturbed rest. Here’s a tip for you youngsters out there—whether dog or human—listen to the old guys and gals, they may seem a little crazy or obsessive but they probably know something you don’t.

Learning from the old and wise.

From Logan I learned that under the trailer is the coolest place in a campsite—cool earth, shade at all times of day, and open to all sides so any breeze blows right through.

Napping under Simon at Premier Lake.

But, if you’re more inclined to filtered sun and some privacy, well, camping out in a shrub is pretty darn close to heaven.

Shrub time at Premier Lake.

Logan was a master at finding the shady, shrubby, resting places everywhere he went, even in places where shrubs are hard to come by.

Since I’m never sure how long we’re going to stay in any one location (and neither are my people) I got to work right away underneath the trailer of the Wolverine. It was shady and a good vantage point for keeping an eye on things. Unfortunately, it lacked the brushy cover that I prefer.

March 2017 – It’s Not Only Birds that Nest 

Shrub time in a Kananaskis horse camp.
Not a lot of leaf on this shrub at Vulture Peak but he made it work.

You won’t find Logan in any of the many shady spots in Logie-land this summer, but you can do what I plan to do … lie under a shrub or a tree listening to the sound of the breeze rustling through the green leaves and remember a very clever black and white dog who liked nothing better than a shady, secret place to nap.

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…and More Lakes

We were on the road last Fur-iday and I completely forgot about the blog until Saturday. Sorry about that. And Saturday was the fullest day on the trip and I was exhausted by the time we got back to camp.

Camp time by the Moyie River at Yahk.

So, where did I leave off? Right. T’s birthday and the anticipated company. Both arrived right on schedule, along with some cool, wet weather. But we RVers are nothing if not adaptable. After Auntie Sus and her friends Mike and Lily arrived from Ymir, the six of us walked to Two Scoop Steve’s for chili and soup rather than ice cream! There was also birthday cake eatin’, guitar pickin’, campground walkin’, story tellin’, and fireside sittin’. Good times along the Moyie River at Yahk Provincial Park (and we did get that ice cream cone when it started to warm up).

Birthday guests hangin’ by the Moyie.

Cranbrook was our next stop, just an overnight in an RV park to give T and Nollind a chance to sanitize the trailer tanks for the season. They took a walk around town without me because they had some shopping to do and I was quite happy to nap in the trailer rather than spend my afternoon tied outside various stores. In the evening we walked around our neighbourhood and came across a somewhat perplexing group of adult playground equipment. T and Nollind gave each machine a try while I watched from the rubber matting.

Adult playground in Cranbrook.

Tuesday morning we were on our way again, northbound on Highway 95A to Kimberley for a lunch stop. The weather was fine for outdoor dining so I scored a great spot on the sidewalk patio of a little Mexican place. I do love dog-friendly patios and think all restaurants should have them. At the Burrito Grill they even brought me my own beverage!

Dos Equis extra extra light.

Our destination for the day was Whiteswan Lake Provincial Park, a park with two lakes and four campgrounds at the end of a gravel road. It was a long, dusty, bumpy way in, but we finally arrived at Alces Lake (Moose Lake) and the first campground only to find it mostly full with just a few undesirable spots open. After 21 kms of white-knuckling the often narrow logging road, I could tell T was ready to get out from behind the wheel, but her desire to find a nice camp spot won out and we were on the road again. Four more bouncy kilometres later, we were at Muskrat Point, another nearly full and disappointing destination. Never one to give up on a dream, T drove on, bound for Inlet Creek.

Whiteswan Lake … so pretty but no good place to camp.

The next four kilometres were really rough but, without anywhere to turn around, we forged on, only to find that Inlet Creek was more parking lot than campground, about half full and right on the dusty logging road.

In addition to the disappointing campgrounds, the rough road had caused the medicine cabinet to bounce open and all of the tooth cleaning equipment had landed in the toilet. It was the final straw. The white flag flew, the towel was thrown in, I was fed my dinner on the side of the road, and we started our trek back to the highway with Nollind at the wheel.

After a short visit to Lussier Hot Springs at km 17 of the Whiteswan Road and a stop at an RV park store for a couple of toothbrushes, we were bound for Premier Lake. It was a complete unknown but looked good online and was close. The road in was not great but, compared to Whiteswan, a complete walk in the park, we found a nice spot in the loop nearest the lake, and we were settled and down at the beach just in time for sunset. The day had been salvaged.

Aaahhhh…first evening at Premier Lake.

Premier Lake was named for the premier of BC at the time it was established but the other meaning of the word— top-ranking, second to none and outstanding—definitely fits. What a place! Nothing but the sound of loons calling across the lake every morning, day hikes to nearby blue-green mountain lakes, wild turtles, a creek running right through the campground, and so many swimming opportunities. I could have stayed longer than the three days and can’t wait to go back.

Premier Lake near the campground.
One of the inhabitants of Turtle Lake.

The final stop on our 12-day tour was a cabin near Invermere that belongs to a friend of Nollind’s. We parked Simon in a lovely shaded spot and I was finally able to be off leash. Thanks, Al!

Invermere was the busiest (and most death defying) of our stops, with a trip to town for burgers and a walk around town on day one and a visit to the farmers market and a dog park on day two. Invermere was also the warmest of our stops with near 30C (86F) temperatures both days. By the time we’d wandered the market on Saturday morning I was so ready for a swim that I was in the water first chance I got at Ray Brydon Park. Trouble was, the water I chose, Toby Creek, was running high and fast with spring run-off and I was swept away before T and Nollind realized what was happening.

Breakfast at the Invermere Farmer’s Market.

I managed to swim to an island, scramble on shore, and there they were, my peeps, looking back at me from the other side with worried expressions. T called me to the upstream end of the island so I’d have more time to get across before I met the full, river-sized channel downstream. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to get back in there but I trust my people and there was T, looking enthusiastic and calling me to join her on the other side. I went back in the water and was immediately caught up in the current. T disappeared from view and I was swept past the spot where Nollind was waiting in an opening in the underbrush a little farther downstream. Oh boy, I was in trouble. I spotted another opening in the shrubs that lined the creek and paddled as hard as I could. I was so happy when I felt solid ground under my feet. I was thoroughly soaked and a little shaken but the welcome I got on shore was almost worth the scare. Almost.

Wiped out after my big day.

On the way home, we made one last stop near Banff for one more lake, one more swim, and one more nap. This trip brought my 2019 lake tally to nineteen—Sylvan, Sturgeon, Williston, Charlie, Little, Saskatoon, Crimson, Twin, Chinook, Alces, Whiteswan, Premier, Cat’s Eye, Turtle, Canuck, Yankee, Columbia, Windermere, and Two-Jack—and it’s only just the first day of summer!

Where to next?

From the Road!

I know it’s the 1st Fur-iday of June and supposed to be a Logan flashback post, but I’m away from home with no access to all those great old photos so Logan will be back in July.

As for me, just like that Willie Nelson classic, I am on the road again, seeing places that I’ve never been. We left home on Wednesday morning, new trailer Simon in tow, headed for the southwest corner of Alberta and points beyond.

My Lakes and More Lakes spring continued with our first stop at Chinook Lake in the Crowsnest Pass. T was overjoyed when we got a spot right on the lake and Nollind and I were pretty happy about it too.

The weather wasn’t great, a little cool with the odd shower, but we managed to get in a hike around the lake, a walking tour of the upper part of the campground, and a morning walk in search of the local moose. We saw a bald eagle, some mergansers, and a few deer…but no moose.

After two nights at Chinook Lake we headed west this morning, over the Rockies and into BC. We’re camped waterfront again at this stop, but on a river, the Moyie.

Tomorrow is T’s birthday and I hear we’ve got company coming, dog and human, so I’m resting up in preparation for the festivities!

From what I hear we’ll still be travelling next Fur-iday, but I’ll try to report in. Until then…this is Chico…on the road…