Today we went for a drive in the bush. Although some might call this “redneck,” this is a typically northern activity and it’s by far one of my favorite things to do on a weekend. We grab a couple rifles, pack a couple sandwiches, and drive on to check out the back roads near Prince George.
We headed out on the Blackwater Road and found some beautiful spots. The sun was shining, the wind was warm and there was no one to be found for miles. At one point today, I stood on a hill, with the wind blowing my hair and the sun shining on my face, and it was like I was being filled with the energy to keep going in life. I soaked it up. That’s my kind of afternoon.
We saw two black bears, fresh from hibernation; a few grouse mamas protecting their babies; the usual squirrels; and a couple bald headed eagles. We also came very close from rolling our truck in the ditch, thanks to a caravan of apparently blind treeplanters (likely kids from the lower mainland who don’t know how to maneuver big trucks on back roads, but nonetheless extremely aggravating). Regardless of bad back roads drivers, we had a nice, relaxing day… so much so, that we might do it again tomorrow.
I won’t share the name of this lake. It’s not far from town but there aren’t any cabins on it, and it belongs to a secret fantasy that we own it. It’s our secret spot of serenity.
Just in case you weren’t sure what you were seeing.
Damn beaver dam.
Back road colours.
This past weekend – August long weekend – finally saw the arrival of summer. The sky cleared, ending a month of daily downpours, and the heat of the sun found my cheek.
My fiance, Russ, and I ventured into the backwoods, down Blackwater Rd southwest of Prince George, to escape the city and commune with nature, if only for an afternoon.
We happened across a beautiful field, filled with wildflowers, where the sun streamed through the trees like a refreshing waterfall.
Further down the road, we came to an amazing hidden jewel – a little lake, bare of houses, cabins or boats. I’ll reserve the right to mention the name of the lake, or the side road we were on, and preserve our secret fantasy that we will one day own it. The scene was perfect in its quietude. There wasn’t a noise to be heard that wasn’t the wind, the lake, a bird, or our own.
Now isn’t that just the height of serenity?