The Bowron Lake circuit is probably the most popular canoeing destination in BC.  It felt like one of those things that you just have to do if you live in BC and are at least remotely into canoeing. Most people probably wouldn't think to paddle 116km with 11km of portaging with three young kids though, but for us it seemed like the perfect first-ish multi-day adventure as a family of five. In the canoe you can carry a lot of stuff, our oldest daughters are old enough to sit nicely in the canoe at most times, and baby W is still too young to attempt to jump over board. As an added bonus a few other families would be joining us on the lakes.

We were on a bit of a high after our latest adventure with our bike canoe trailer, and we were excited to take it out again. Luckily I already had an adventure up my sleeve. A campsite booked at Sayshutsun (Newcastle Island) just off the coast of Nanaimo on Vancouver Island. Bike the canoe to the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal, walk the canoe onto the ferry, paddle the canoe across to Newcastle Island. Simple enough, but we knew it was going to be a long day, so we got up for an early start (at least for us). 

Biking 30km through town with a canoe and three children turned out to a significant amount of work. F biked the first 20 km by herself, so the first part seemed pretty casual for Christian and I, although F was very disstressed going along the causeway and over Lions gate bridge. She found the cars too loud. I had done a recon trip to Lions gate bridge the week before to measure the narrowest spots, making sure the canoe trailer would fit across. The alternative would be paddling, but the shipping lanes make this somewhat more complicated than one might naively imagine. Christian was a bit worried about blocking bike traffic on the bridge, due to the width of the canoe, but managed to do the entire thing (start of the causeway downtown to North Van) in about 15 minutes and was only passed by a single cyclist who he pulled over for at one of the lookout spots.

At some point, early in the pandemic, Line lamented that we didn't have a canoe trailer for our bikes  - vehicle access was closed to most beaches, but bicycle access was open. If only we could tow the canoe there on our bikes, she was thinking... Little did she know (well, actually, she probably knew) I've been wanting to make a bike-towable canoe trailer for quite some time. This isn't really going to be a step-by-step with plans, as I mostly winged the design and measurements were written on the back of a cereal box I've since lost... but if you're crafty it will probably give you some ideas.

Our favourite kind of adventures are the ones were we are not quite sure if we are going to make it. "Adventure is when the outcome is uncertain", as they say. This was definitely one of those - in fact when we headed off Friday morning I wasn't even sure it was a good idea. We were already two and half hours later than planned, as we had debated all morning if we even wanted to leave due to the pouring rain. F had insisted though; she would rather go biking and canoeing in the rain than go to school, so we went.

​It was 12.30 by the time we finally left the house. I was towing the chariot with the two little ones, Christian towing the canoe and most of the gear, and F was on her own bike. It was still raining but at least not pouring anymore. We headed North on Ontario, and then East on 10th until the greenway. On the usually busy bike route we were grateful for the poor weather keeping the crowds at home. I had been pondering our route choice for a while the night before. I wanted to avoid busy streets, minimize elevation gain, but also make sure that the canoe did not get stuck on a narrow path. Luckily the bollards along the greenway were slightly further apart than the canoe was wide. Until we turned off the greenway F enjoyed riding through puddles and into the wet grass along the path. The real challenge for her started when we turned north again on Willingdon to go up over the Burnaby hill. It seemed like the up would never end, and we had to have a few extra candy and undressing stops. The rain had now stopped and the sun was starting the peak out. Christian and I began to wonder if we had enough time to actually do the canoeing part before dark. We both got a little agitated with F when she stopped for the umpteeth time to adjust who knows what. Just as our patients seemed to be running out we hit the top of the hill and started cruising down. It was smooth riding until we hit the Barnet road. The first kilometre or so has no shoulder, so we opted to loose most of the elevation down the bike route on cliff ave, only to have to regain it on a very steep hill. We were all kind of wondering if Christian would make it up with the canoe. F hopped on the haul-a-day for the little stretch left of Barnet road and we rolled into Barnet marine park just after 4pm. 

by Christian
I've taken the kid(s) snow caving every year since 2017 (when F was 2, in 2016, we tried to take her snowcaving... but she fully refused to go into the cave  and we ended up sleeping in the tent instead; the following year we had much more success). Two years ago, when N was a baby, I took F "on my own" (actually, with a couple other families) while Line stayed at home with the new baby, and last year I managed my largest snow-cave ever: 4.1m long by 3m wide with a ceiling height of 1.2m, sleeping 7 people.  This year, Line would stay at home with baby W and Miriam and I would take F and N together.

Before you get too judgy this trip actually happened way back at the end of February, before camping became a controversial activity, back when covid was this far-away thing that hadn't really made it to Europe or North America (or, at least, so we thought at the time). It was a special trip for me, but I was kind of busy and didn't write things down at the time... and then the pandemic hit and I became busier than ever. Now that we're settled I want to try and get most if it down before my memory fades too much...

Heading up from the parking lot went very smooth - I towed N in a toboggan, and F wore cross country skis with some old climbing skins attached by just folding the end over the tips. Miriam had only been on skis a handful of times at this point, but was basically an expert at the uphill part from the beginning. I'm sure there must have been some candy-bribery involved, but F skied most of the way herself, with Miriam towing her up the last bit. We made it to the shelter by early afternoon, where the obligatory grilled-cheeses were placed on the wood stove.

After noticing that the parking lot at Deer Lake was closed, like so many other places during the pandemic, I, half-joking, suggested that Christian should build a bike canoe trailer. By now you would think, that I would know better than suggesting projects jokingly. However, now a month later it is here, and I must admit I am pretty stocked about it. 

Last weekend we took the trailer on its first real test ride - a self propelled canoe trip of False Creek. To the regular self propelled community that might sound rather tame, but when you factor in the three kids it take​s it to a new level. 

This weekend parks started to open up and we were itching to get out of town for a bit. However, with none of the local provincial parks opening up and the advice to still stay local, we settled for a new to us river within Metro Vancouver, the Alouette River. It turned out to not be a settle after all. 

We put in at the Harrison Road crossing. The parking lot was busy, but we still managed to get a spot, and it wasn't long before we were on the water. It was just after low tide, and we paddled up stream without much effort. We spend 3 hours exploring up one of the North arms. We were almost stopped by a log across the river, but Christian insisted on pulling it free. I was a little worried that it was going to capsize a boat down river from us, or get stuck downriver trapping us up river. Luckily neither of these things happened, and Christian declared his sense of adventure for-filled. I guess expectations are low these days. Eventually we were stopped by the combination of the river narrowing and the flow increasing, so we turned around. 

It has been about two and half month since the WHO declared the novel coronavirus (COVID-19) outbreak a global pandemic. It has been 2.5 months of being at home with three kids. I am exhausted, but also realize that I have Pandemic Privilege. We have lost little income, we live in a house with a garden, we have access to technology, I do not need to work while trying to look after my kids, and one of our childcare providers are also our housemate. Yet I have still been grieving our loses. In March I felt like I had settled into a good routine with a new baby, a toddler and a 1st grader. I grief the loss of my leave time, that special time to get to know and bond with the new baby. I grief the missed weekend camping trips and our two month travel plans at the end of this leave. I grief the missed visits from my parents living overseas - will they get to meet their granddaughter before she is a toddler?

I also feel tired into my bones, anxious about the future and overwhelmed by the endlessness of it all. The laundry, the cooking, the conflicts, the cleaning, the everydayness. I miss my friends, I miss going away on the weekends, but most of all I miss going camping with friends. Camping is a break from the everydayness, a chance to leave the chores behind (physically and mentally), a chance to reconnect without interruptions, a chance to let go of worries and anxieties. 
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​Catching up on old half-written posts, but the 2020 race day was recently announced, which reminded me of this long-standing draft...