By Christian

This post - 11 to 13 June
~ 35 km, 1150 m - biked with the whole family
~ 20 km biking, ~ 12 km hiking, ~ 2200 m elevation - extra-curricular
(and a long ferry ride)
Follows: det-danske-hav-great-biking-and-cool-campsites
Next: bike-touring-in-norway-part-ii-evacuation-from-the-windy-funnel-and-on-to-strynefjellet.html
See also: our-european-bike-tour-people-and-equipment.

On arriving in Bergen we picked the large outdoor (but covered) public area just outside the airport front doors for bicycle unpacking and re-assembly. We'd taken four hours to pack all four (Line's sister Laerke would be joining us) bikes in Copenhagen, but didn't have very much time for re-assembly as we had a ferry to catch. We needed to be efficient. F's bike was assembled first; this turned out to be a key strategic decision because it meant she could ride around in circles (entertaining herself) while the adults re-assembled the rest of the bikes, changed diapers, re-packed the luggage for biking, and kept the kids fed. Second bike was my cargo bike, which Line immediately took to drop the bike boxes off with the hotel we'd stay at the night preceding our return flight (we hadn't yet figured out we could easily carry them in addition to all our stuff). I had her bike assembled just before she returned, so she could take off to buy fuel and other supplies we'd need for the rest of our trip, and then sort out the ferry. One I'd finished up Laerke's bike (noticing it was in pretty pour repair) we packed all the kids and stuff onto them and headed off. Two hours - we were efficient.

We caught up to Line when she called Laerke's cell... "Hey, there is a bike store attached to the camping store - maybe we should buy enough parts to fix Laerke's bike? What size are her tires again?" "Wait a second - we're also standing outside a bike/outdoors store". Turns out we were meters apart. We stocked up on bike parts too (all the consumables on Laerke's borrowed bike were in poor shape - tires, brakes, cables) and hurried to the ferry. The ride through town was really nice, with lots of bike infrastructure.

Last weekend the weather was forecast to be beautiful, so we made a last minute decision to go camping, and convinced a few friends to come. After a few emails back and forth we settled on Joffre Lakes. The park website had some serious warnings about ice on the trail. We figured it probably wasn't so bad, but still decided to bring microspikes for all the adults, and Christian stayed up a few extra hours making kid crampons for the four hiking kids. In the end the kids ended up disappointed due to the lack of ice on the trail. One of them still insisted on wearing the crampons on a ice covered mud puddle at the upper lake.

We arrived at the parking lot around 11am and managed to snatch the last free parking spot. Scott and Sandra had to park at the new lower lot. The trail was busy. It seemed particularly busy when you are wearing giant backpacks and have four young kids blocking the way of other hikers. The kids did amazing though and we arrived at the second lake within a couple of hours with very little complaining. Christian had put his new hiking tactic - the "slow down you whipper-snappers you're hiking too fast!" game to good work. We had a long break and only lost a few gold fish crackers and half a bagel to the very aggressive whisky jacks. 

The trail around the upper lake was more like a scramble for little legs and ended up taking almost as long as the rest of the trail. It was nice to leave the crowds behind at the far side of the lake though. At the campsite, the kids were off exploring right away while we set up tents and cooked dinner. It was a cold night, but once the sun had set the stars came out, and they were spectacular. I fell asleep while putting N to bed, so i did not notice that Christian and F had set up their sleeping bags outside. I woke up around 9pm and registered that they were gone, and then proceeded to lie there very still not to wake N up, while I worried were they might be. It was not until 40 min later that I finally realized that their mats and sleeping bags were also missing, and when I looked outside the tent I saw them sleeping under the stars. In the morning they both spoke about how special it was to stargaze together. F was excited to have seen her first shooting stars, and Christian was excited to notice the earth's rotation and the milky way were way out-of-plane compared to each other... but mostly they were both excited to have spent the night out doing something special together.

We had a very relaxed morning. The kids spent a lot of time playing hide and seek in the boulders and breaking the ice formed overnight on the lake. Around 11am we started heading down. We had a long lunch break at the other end of the upper lake enjoying the warm sun before heading down. Once we hit the improved trail I could no longer keep up while carrying N. The kids were running down the trail. At some point I heard some serious crying and I quickly caught up to Christian and Carter. S had fallen on the trail hitting his head on a rock. He had a big goose egg on his forehead, and a puncture wound under his eye. Luckily he seemed to be fully with it, and even slightly annoyed that Christian kept asking him what he had had for breakfast. Carter carried him the rest of the way down. We were all happy that he seemed alright when we got to the cars.

by Christian

See also posts from different legs of our trip:
​det-danske-hav-great-biking-and-cool-campsites.html
bike-touring-in-norway-part-i-a-bit-too-optimistic.html
bike-touring-in-norway-part-ii-evacuation-from-the-windy-funnel-and-on-to-strynefjellet.html
bike-touring-in-norway-iii-poopville-mysubytta.html
bike-touring-in-norway-part-iv-jotunheimen-national-park-and-valdresflye-plateaux.html
bike-touring-in-norway-part-v-mosquito-pass-mjlkevegen.html
bike-touring-in-norway-part-vi-rallarvegen.html
st-moritz-to-innsbruck-biking-with-old-friends.html

We "just" (ok - it's been a month) got back from 2 months cycle-touring around Europe. We toured through Denmark, Norway, Switzerland, Austria, and Germany (with a few flights, ferries, and trains in there). We took it easy in terms of distances covered, averaging about 40 km per day, so that the kids would have lots of time to play. But we still had some long days, and several days with elevation gains approaching 1000 m. Trip reports to come (spoiler - it was incredible)... but most questions are about the logistics and equipment, so let's start there!
Our youngest daughter, N, rode in the chariot bike trailer all the time. Our oldest daughter, F, had the option of riding her own bike, sitting on the back of my cargo bike, or sitting in the chariot. I would say that she rode her own bike about 25% of the time. Not surprisingly, she had a strong preference for sitting out all of the long uphills. She also never really went in the chariot unless she wanted to sleep or it was raining. Usually I would tow the chariot and we would just strap F's bike sideways across Line (mom)'s panniers. If we anticipated a lot of switching back-and-forth Line would tow the chariot and I would use the cargo bike to tow F's bike (riderless) as this was a faster transition. If I was already towing the chariot, but needed to take F's bike as well, I could also stick it vertically on the back along with all our stuff, or sideways on the front rack, but both of these took more time to set up than towing. So we had a lot of options.
All the listed weights were "typical underway" weights in the middle of the trip (specifically, when we weighed everything just as we left our friend's house in Zurich). We weren't carrying very much food/water at the time - only a day or two. Sometimes we carried for up to 4 days. We could definitely feel the difference. You can add up all the weights below, but I'll save you the trouble - all the stuff and kids together weighed in at 343 lbs being hauled around by 303 lbs worth of parents.

The family reunited
I left Vancouver with the girls prior to Christian, and after two weeks he was finally joining us in Denmark to start the first leg of our 2 month long bike trip. We spent a day at my dad's house to get the bikes ready, and pack all our stuff into panniers and dry bags. We were all very excited and a bit nervous. We have gone on a few weekend trips to the Gulf Islands, and one 5 day trip to Vancouver Island previously, but this would be our first long distance bike tour. I always thought that we should save the bike touring for when we had two kids, so here we go...

Getting started
​In the evening of Christian's arrival day my dad drove the family to Freltofte, where we set up camp. I took the train as we didn't all fit in the car. Here we enjoyed our first night at one of Denmarks many shelter spots. Denmark is littered with these small shelter spots, where you can sleep in a small shelter or set up your tent for free (or very cheap). It can be on public or private land. Freltofte Lejrplads just North of Ringe were located at the back of a private property. They had sheep and bunnies, there were an outhouse and water available. Only problem was the many moquitos coming out at dusk encouraging us to set up camp quickly. 

The next morning we packed the bikes for the first time. It was definitely not efficient, but we managed to fit it all on. We set off towards Ringe on the country roads. In Ringe we had our first and only bikeshop stop (in Denmark). F's seat on the Haul-a-Day was lacking an essential snacking station and a bell. After a few quick upgrades we joined the railtrail towards Korinth. 16 km of flat trail with no cars. F biked the first kilometer or so, but quickly decided that the Haul-a-Day was more attractive.

The weekend after returning home from two months of bike touring in Europe a big group of our friends were getting together for an overnight trip at Brew Lake. We thought it would be a great way to see everyone again, and get F out hiking with her buddies. 

We left town at 8 am and it was already super warm. Our family does not do so well with warm, which is my we tend to pick places like Alaska, the Yukon, Greenland and Norway for our holidays. F in particular does not deal well with heat as she does not like getting sweaty. Turns out that our car also did not like the heat, because as we were driving up the logging road the clutch started failing to engage after changing gears. Luckily it still (almost) made it to the trailhead before we had to abandon it in hopes that it would be better once we got back. 
F started hiking up the road with our friend Tim and his daughter, T.  I didn't catch up to them before we got to the trailhead, where everyone were busy getting there kids ready for hiking. The trail is more of a route. It is overgrown in the clearcut and goes through several boulder patches. Normally challenging trails tend to keep the kids entertained, but that was definitely not the case for F on this day. Things quickly went down hill on the way up. It seems that everything was wrong if you asked F. I must admit that I also thought that it was way too warm and way too buggy. I think both Christian and I had this expectation that F could easily hike this particular trail, and F was very determined to show us how incapable she was. After a two hour meltdown F had convinced us that it was best to go back home to do the laundry and clean the apartment (it sure could use it). They say that you can't make them eat, sleep, or poop... but I guess you also can't make them hike. We have later determine that there were lots of things that we could have done better in this situation, but I was still impressed with Christian's calmness and compassion. Our main lesson for the next trip was to change our language. We would like to keep it upbeat and positive, and not try to bring any time constraint into the situation (like, we have to keep going to catch up to your friends, or before it gets dark, etc.). We (more recently) did an overnight hike into Conflict Lake which went very well, so maybe we learned something. 

I decided to continue the trip with N, so we had a snack and rearranged the gear. I quickly made it up to the lake and not so much later all the families had arrived. The lake provided a perfect, cool swim, and a small breeze kept the bugs away. And despite the heat it was really nice up there. Kids all enjoyed playing, some in the lake and some on shore. 

The Nelson family had left their tent pole at home, so Scott shared the tent with N and I, which made me feel better about carrying a four person tent up there.  In the morning N crawled over and cuddled Scott, but later woke up surprised that it wasn't her dad she was snuggling. 

Sunday morning I woke up to the sound of mosquitos buzzing and although they got better later in the morning the nice breeze never came back to take them away. The heat was also pretty brutal, so I was happy when my ride, Maya and Gili, decided to make it an early departure.  I took my time packing, while they started heading down with their three year old. At two we were back at the car driving back towards Vancouver.

by Christian

This post is super-old now... with the second kid we've had troubles both getting out and finding the time to tell the internet about it. I stand by our choice... but am finally clearing out some half-finished posts before our 2-month parental-leave bike tour...

In what is starting to become an annual tradition F and I headed up to red Heather for a fine weekend of snowcaving. It was really great to see a lot of other families with kids up there too - we were going up with my friends Tim and Mirella and their 6 year old daughter T, and meeting my friend/supervisor Jeff and his 9 year old son D. Our coworker Anita would be up there too for her first snowcaving experience. Along the way we met another dad with his similarly-aged daughter, and a large group with sightly older kids, all winter camping in tents. We also met two families towing their kids up wearing harnesses and Alpine ski gear, so that the kids could ski down themselves - it was the first time I'd seen somebody I didn't already know doing that.

The initial plan was for Line and N to join us for the day, but the forecast predicted they would be driving home, alone, in the middle of a full-on winter storm. So it was just F and I (at least from our family). After some digging to create a parking spot (making the steel shovel and pick-axe that live in the car useful yet again) we began towing up the trail. F is now an expert at being towed and overall we had a good time on the way up - she would zig-zag on the trail, try and ski into the fresh snow, and (new to this trip) demand to be towed backwards on occasion. Despite being a better downhill skier T had a bit of trouble, both due to less towing experience and a less comfortable harness system (inspiring me to make this post about F's home-made ski harness). Up at the shelter we met up with Jeff et. al., cooked some grilled cheese on the wood stove, and got digging. 

F spent a little bit of time 'helping' me, but for the most part F and T entertained each other with one adult supervising, leaving one digger per cave (but with Tim and Mirella alternating on thiers). I dug my classic snowcave, with standing-height vestibule and a wide sitting-height sleeping platform just higher than the entrance tunnel. See this post for my snowcave digging 'recipe'. After a dinner of bunny-pasta (F's usual choice) we headed to bed. As is best-practice all our gear came into the cave with us.

After getting F all set up and ready for bed came what is usually the hardest part of camping alone with F - leaving her on her own for a few minutes while I go to the outhouse. You see, F doesn't like to be on her own - even just in another room in the house for a moment. And, like many kids, she's afraid of the dark. I helped her put on her headlamp then explained where I was going, how soon I would be back, and that the snowcave was a very safe place. She made me promise to be 'quick as a brick' and 'snowman fast', her standard, which always amuses me since neither bricks nor snowmen can move at all let alone particularly fast. I ran. Imagine my surprise when I can back to find F had buried her headlamp inside her sleeping bag and demanded I do the same, so we could see the faint moonlight glowing in through the door tunnel - progress!

Inside the snowcave the temperature hovered right around zero and it was a bit humid, but our smooth domed ceiling with single vent hole right at the top (over the vestibule) made for a drip-free night. We both got a really good sleep in the silence of the cave.

In the morning we found that we'd been snowed-in by the overnight storm. Since we were in no rush we lounged inside the cave and ate leftover grilled cheese for breakfast. F grabbed a pine needle off of the ceiling that had been trapped in the snow, and pretended to shave me with it. Then she moved on to my eyebrows (which are super bushy). I commented that mom would really appreciate that. F asked why, so I explained that trimming my eyebrows made me look like a younger, more attractive, version of myself. She looked puzzled "But - you'll still look like an old man!". It wasn't until I burst out laughing that F realised she'd made fun of me and started laughing too.

F used the potty that I still bring with us when we do overnight backcountry trips (so much easier than trying to convince her to use the outhouse), but since I didn't bring an adult-sized one we eventually had to make our escape and I dug our way out. I always bring my shovel inside, but it was the first time I had to use it (although, to be fair, mostly I just pushed my way out). The other snowcavers had all already escaped their caves, and the day trippers had started to stream in to ski the fresh snow.

After showing off our caves we collapsed them and skied out; the new snow made for great conditions on the ski down to the carpark.

When I first started towing F whole touring I just tied a rope around her waist and went for it. This worked ok for short distances, but it was clearly a lot of work and uncomfortable for her. So (at 2am the night before a trip, of course) I decided to make something better. It's been through a few tweaks, but at this point I think I the overall design is pretty good so I'd like to share it. Key design features:

• Pulls from the bum, like a climbing harness, for stability
• Had some elasticity to smooth out the ride
• Quick to take on and off, even with gloves on
• Quick to adjust for differing amounts of clothes
• Doesn't fall down or move around
• Single point attachment for convenience
• Can also be used as a 'slow me down' harness for skiing downhill
• Light and packs small

Essentially it's just a bum-sized rectangle of fabric with a bungee cord looped through the top/bottom. It's got elasticized suspenders to keep it from falling down, and an elasticized waist buckle so it stays on even when not loaded. The bungee is just long enough that F can ski over the tow rope, let it go out behind her through her legs, and the biner is comfortably behind her bum for being slowed down on the downhill. Here's a picture of it laid out, and on F:

To make it you'll need:

• Elastic bungee
• Fabric - I used lightweight uncoated nylon, the sort of stuff you'd use to make a sleeping bag
• Regular buckle for waist
• Elastic webbing that fits the buckle
• Snap-lock buckle for suspenders
• Elastic webbing that fits snap-lock buckle when doubled up

Size the fabric so it is long enough to reach around you kids bum, from waist to the top of the legs. Don't forget to leave some extra to finish the edges wide enough that you can pass the bungee through. Size the width so that it reaches around their waist; the width can be much longer than necessary without I'll effect.

Finish the sides of the fabric seat first. You will eventually want the bungee inside the fold you make when finishing the top and bottom of the fabric seat, but the rest of the steps will be a pain with it in there. For now just sew a piece of thread into it instead; later you will use it to pull the bungee through. I sized my fold so it is a snug fit for a double-fisherman knot with the bungee I used. This let me wiggle it into the middle of the bottom, where it is out of the way, and it stays there.

Sew a short piece of webbing to each side near the top for the waist belt. Thread the waist buckle through these so it can be used to keep the harness tight around the waist, like a belt. I sewed mine back a bit from the edges, so it doesn't get pulled loose when the harness is under tension. If your harness is wider than you need you might want to sew it pretty far back.

Sew the two suspender straps to the top edges near the front, and sew the snap-lock buckle to the center of the back. I tied my suspender straps together so they join right in-between my daughter's shoulders, then passed the two of them together through the snap-lock. On-trip adjustability for clothes using just the snap-lock and waist buckle is adequate, and I can move the knot at home beforehand as she grows.

Now thread the bungee through, tie it in a loop (I used a double-fisherman) and arrange the knot so it's out of the way (I put mine in the middle at the bottom).

You're done! Now you can clip the bungee loops for towing uphill, and for downhill get your kid to ski over the rope with one ski so it ends up folding back under their crotch. My daughter claims this is comfortable, and we do it a lot so I believe her. I use an old cordellette for my tow rope and find it to be a convenient length.

I've thought about modifying the design a bit more to put in a crotch-loop, so it can't ride up, but it doesn't seem to actually be a problem for us so I haven't bothered. I've also thought about making the bungee even longer so I can wrap it right around each side to clip on the downhill, but my daughter claims the current method works fine, and it is convenient to be able to switch to the downhill by flicking the rope forward and having her ski over it. Here's F demonstrating the transition to "downhill mode"

There are lots of online guides out there describing how to build snow caves, why write another one? Well, to be honest, most of them are pretty bad. I've made a fair number of snow caves now - often digging by myself to sleep the family - and I think I've gotten pretty good at it. 

Some caveats:

• "It's fun" is really the only good reason to sleep in a snowcave. Don't think of a snowcave as some sort of fast-and-light alternative to a tent. It is so much easier to just carry a tent. Especially if it's your first snowcave plan to spend basically half a day digging it, and probably you should carry a tent anyway as a backup. Also, don't think of a snowcave as some sort of miracle "emergency" shelter - in winter conditions there is no such thing (other than a cabin with a wood stove). In an emergency, if you did not prepared to spend the night, you are almost always better off to press on and hike off the mountain.
• Don't build your shelter somewhere you are going to get avalanched, or people might walk onto it and collapse it from above. Not that the cave is likely to actually collapse from somebody walking on it.
• We live in the BC South Coast mountains - we get tons of snow. So this article basically assumes the snowpack is at least 2 meters deep. There are other options (igloos, quinzees) for when the snow isn't as deep.

In addition to food all the other winter camping stuff, for snowcaving specifically, you'll want:

• One shovel per digger. Avalanche rescue shovels are great. It's best to have a smallish one for the person inside, since the toughest part is when space is tight. My favourite is the Voile XLM - normally you need to pick 2 of the 3: light, strong, cheap... but the XLM has all three (thanks partially to being small, which is it's own advantage). (Personal beef/aside comment - a lot of people think that shovels with big blades make for more efficient digging... but unless your upper body strength is way above average the limit on how much snow you can move per scoop is going to be the weight of the snow, not the size of your shovel blade - even with something small like the XLM).
• An avalanche probe to check snowpack depth and discover trees etc. before excavation. At least 230 cm.
• A ski pole (or similar) for poking a breathing hole.
• Waterproof-breathable (hardshell) jacket and pants, and warm mitts/boots.

Probably you had all those things with you anyway... other things that are not strictly necessary, but really nice:

• Knee pads, if you've got them, worn under your waterproof pants will help keep your knees and legs warm and dry.
• Big fully-waterproof shell overmitts, to wear over your normal mittens. None of this treated-leather/fabric stuff. Waterproof.

You should plan to do most of your digging in just your base layers and waterproofs. It's hard work, and you don't want to sweat too much, but (especially if you are the person inside) you will be constantly pressed up against the snow and have snow falling on you so you will need waterproofness.

You want to pick a good spot:

• Not somewhere dangerous (avalanche, rockfall, etc.). Obviously.
• Ideally you go near the top of a short 35 (ish) degree slope/roll. Note that 35 degrees is the perfect steepness for avalanche incidents (steep enough to rip, not so steep that it self-regulates well). That's why it should be a small slope. Steeper is OK - your ceiling will be thicker, shallower is going to be a lot more work digging.
• Probe the area first to make sure there is enough snow, and there are no trees awaiting discovery in the middle of your cave.
• Then set up some kind of warning system (maybe ski poles and some rope?) above your location so that people don't ski onto your cave from above. Don't be tempted to steal the BC Parks trail wands. For one they are not yours, also they will probably actually attract people.

1. Start out by digging a trench into the slope. You need to get deep enough into the slope for your cave and a trench is way less work than a tunnel since you can actually move around without crawling. Throw the snow downhill, as far as you can. Expect to spend at least at much time moving the snow away from your trench as you do actually digging it - that's why a trench is less work. If you were digging a tunnel you'd need to drag/push that snow while crawling. This can be done by two people with some coordination.
2. As soon as the firm-snow trench depth is just a little deeper than you are tall switch to digging a tunnel. You want it a little wider than you are, and not much taller than you need to crawl through. As soon as possible start tunnelling straight upwards until it's standing height in there. This is the hardest part. Really, you are not making a "tunnel" in the traditional sense but a standing-height vestibule you need to duck to enter. The "wall" behind you to your trench can be pretty thin, maybe as thin as 10 cm or so if the snow is firm. The thinner the wall (and shorter the tunnel) the easier it will be to push snow out later.
3. Standing in your new vestibule start clearing a platform out in front of you. Aim to make the floor just a little bit higher than the top of your doorway, so warm air is trapped inside. Getting the floor above the height of the door makes a huge difference in temperature - with the warm air trapped it will make it right around zero almost regardless of how cold it is outside. If you have a partner you can just tip the snow down into your vestibule and they can fish it out from between your legs. If not you will need to pile it beside you in there, squeeze out beside it when it's full, and then fish it out yourself. I've found that clearing a platform as far as I can reach with my shovel in front and to the sides is big enough for two people to sleep comfortably and still have space around the sides for gear. If you have more than 2 people you will probably need to climb up onto the platform.
4. ​Most guides recommend a tall ceiling with step sides to prevent drips, but I've found this isn't really important. What is important is to make the ceiling smooth, with nothing sticking out for drips to form on. I also like to put the vent hole right at the tallest spot in the ceiling, and to make that tallest part in the vestibule - then all the warm humid air has a place to go where it's ok to drip or have precipitation fall down. A single hole about the size of your average ski pole grip should be about right to keep it somewhat dry and fresh in there, but still warm.

And, you're done! When you are truly done with your cave you should collapse it, so it's not a hazard to others. Even though the ceiling is strong enough to support your weight now it might melt out before it compresses itself flat due to show creep. Plus this gives you a chance to see just how strong your ceiling was! Usually I have to dig before I can break through. It's enough to leave it as a giant hole - the idea here is simply not to leave a hidden hazard. People need to move around in the mountains with their eyes open anyway. Here's a cheat-sheet:

Since I came to Canada 11 years ago I think I have only spend one or two New Years Eves in the city. Before kids we usually went into the backcountry to slay the pow. It would usually involve a hut, often some nude running around, and always some great skiing. After kids we have started renting a condo at a ski resort in the interior. It has been great, but you've got to be on it and book that stuff in the summer time. This year I kind of dropped the ball on that - I was kind of busy with having a baby and stuff, so when November rolled around we still didn't have any plans. I spent a few late nights searching the internet and found these great looking huts in Methow valley. The only problem was the drive, so we decided to cut it up by renting a place in Princeton on the way there and in Snoqualmie Pass on the way back. 
​

We arrived at the Cub Creek parking lot around 11am to drop off our stuff. We had ordered at freight haul, so we got all the stuff piled onto the snow mobile sled and send off. After the stuff got send off, we got the kids ready and headed off ourselves. 

"Daddy - what's an adventure?"
"It's when you don't know how things are going to turn out."
"Why did you call this an adventure?"
"Well, we didn't really know how things were going to turn out..."

It was the first overnight trip without mom for F and I (sort of - we did go up to Cathedral Lakes for a week this summer, but Mom couldn't stay away and had decided to come up and join us after only a night). The plan was for me to tow/carry her up to the VOC's Brew Hut. We figured it would be our last chance before the snow really closed in for the season and we could no longer drive the first 10 km along the Chance and Roe Creek FSRs. Line and N would have a relaxing weekend at home, and avoid the storm that was supposed to settle in on Saturday night.

After F and I finished grocery shopping Friday night (I've learned that one of the key ways to get F excited for a trip is for her to pick the food) I put her to bed, packed the things, and made some final tweaks to F's towing harness (which had been prototyped while skiing the previous weekend). It was probably 1am by the time everything was set, but we weren't getting up *too* early the next morning, since we'd planned to drive the road and only had to travel ~5 km. I picked up our good friend Norkio who would join us for the trip at 7 am.

Shortly after leaving the highway, at about km 2, we ran into the classic gong-show of multiple cars trying to turn around and leave or park on a narrow logging road. Uh oh. There was snow on the road, and if that wasn't enough to dissuade you there was a downed tree too. I got out and ran up the first bit of road to check the snow depth and the tree. Snow was ~1/3 the tire diameter, all super wet and heavy. It seemed we could drive under the tree at the very edge of the road. The snow was from earlier in the week - just a single storm's worth - that we'd expected should have been rain at this elevation... just like it was raining now. I'm not normally one to risk getting myself stuck... but with 8 km more road and snow that wasn't too deep I figured I should test the waters. With 4-low, real winter tires, and chains on all 4 wheels the vehicle made slow but steady progress uphill. But I didn't feel I had the safety margin to push it for the whole 8 km so we turned around and parked. While sorting ourselves out for skiing some guy showed up in a jacked-up 4-runner and tried to make it up the road using momentum and mudder-tires... it's not really clear to me if he thought he was going to drive the whole road on momentum, or how he was planning to go around the tree at that speed, but he got stuck at the end of our tracks, then un-stuck, then almost slid off the road, then almost slid into a different tree, then almost slid into my car. I held F well off to the side of the road for the display.

​We started off with F being carried. Norkio helped me shoulder the load, with an additional small pack strapped to the back of the child-carrying pack. It felt pretty heavy, but manageable. After probably less than a kilometre F wanted to come out and be towed instead so we got her out, clicked into her skis, and started towing. F has actually gotten pretty good at being towed, so we were making reasonable progress... at least whenever she wasn't falling over and laughing about it. Mostly, though, she just sang or talked to Noriko while cutting out of the skin track so she could make her "own track in the fresh snow". A dozen more downed trees made the towing more challenging, and washed away regrets about not driving the road. F shuffled on her skis through the occasional bare patches where flowing water had washed away the snow. A few hours of towing and a few snack breaks later, near the bridge over Roe Creek (km 6) F requested a break, so we loaded her back into the backpack so she could nap while I carried her. This time she felt really heavy. I was having difficulty shouldering the load and keeping up to Noriko. The pack felt like it was stabbing me through the hip belt, and no adjustment could fix it. I thought maybe I was starting to get soft - I haven't hit the gym nearly as often since N was born - but in retrospect I think it was the extra water weight (see the end of the report). We struggled on, passing by a number of parties (mostly daytrippers) on their way back after bailing on their own Brew Hut plans.

At around 1:30 pm, 3 hours from dark this time of year, we made the call to turn around halfway up the R200 branch (km 8.5ish). F had woken up from her nap very wet and a bit cold, and the rain that had been following us all day had turned into wet heavy snow. There was a cold wind. The storm was coming in early, and it was pretty clear that we would get hammered by it in the alpine, in the dark, breaking trail looking for the hut in a whiteout. Now, I've done more than my fair share of alpine-storm-whiteout navigation, but there was no way I could be sure I'd be able to keep F warm and safe. This was the first time (for F) that we weren't going to complete our nominal objective. F was crushed (even though I started trying to prepare her for it the moment we hit snow at km 2). F is often pretty vocal when she's upset, so I didn't realize just how crushed she was until she managed a "get the tears out of my goggles" in between sobs. She had literally *filled* her ski goggles with tears, and the water line had just reached the bottom of her eyes. I was simultaneously heartbroken and stunned that it was physically possible to generate such a large volume of tears. I drained her goggles and actually started heading towards the hut again for a few minutes before I came to my senses.

I got F warm by putting my primaloft sweater (the only spare clothes I was carrying for myself) over top of all her clothes and changing her mittens. Fortunately she quickly warmed and cheered up a lot on the ski back down. Even more fortunately Steve Grant, who I loosely know from all his positive contributions to the outdoor community, overtook us on his own ski back down to the car. We chatted a bit and he tipped us off to the location of an old trappers cabin not too far from the road, about halfway back to the car. The goal switched from making it back to the car in the dark to trying to make it to the cabin before dark. We experimented with a variety of techniques:​

​The next day we made some snowmen in the ample slush-rain before hiking back to the road and skiing out. F insisted on walking back to the road herself, and she did, except for the part where all the recent precipitation had turned it into a river. I carried her through that. Then more skiing/towing down the logging road. We only had one meltdown, when F became unconsolably upset/scared that some snowmobiles were going to come and that they would be really loud. Other than that pretty smooth sailing. When we made it back to the car I declared that the weekend had been our first "real" adventure together, and then needed to explain what that meant.