A Five-hour Introduction to the Wilderness that Surrounds Me

The Bulkley Valley from the mountain behind my cabin.

Sitting in my little second-floor table nook reading and having coffee, I heard a presence arrive at the door below. Looking down, I saw an older man in smart cycling gear. He introduced himself as Alec, the neighbour I'd been told of — a retired physics teacher — who loves to hike regularly. I enthusiastically agreed to meet him for a 2pm departure in to the woods. I've been here a month and not explored the wilderness that is all around me. It's been a shame to only be seeing it from the property of my cabin or from my car en route to town and back. But solo woodland walks are ill-advised in this country where bears flourish.

We made our way through mountain meadows and forest trails to a neighbouring farm. Here I was introduced to a couple of old brothers and their cousin visiting from Switzerland. I was intrigued by the home of one brother, Paul, which had all of its windows covered by bamboo slat blinds hung down from the outside and secured in what looked to be a permanent fashion. Imagine having the most spectacular mountain vista and choosing to block it all out! Curious. Also curious is the fact that Paul's wife could be heard in that dark house but is apparently rarely seen.

These brothers have lived here all their lives and raise beef cattle. They also have a spectacular vegetable garden, producing more than they could possibly consume but choosing not to partake in selling at the Farmer's Market. Alec suggests that I may be able to weasel my way into some of their bounty if I play my cards right.

Alec and I munched on heavenly raspberries that edged the garden as we awaited Paul's cousin Alfred. Then we all set off on what became a five-hour hike through dense forest. I was amazed that Alec seemed so sure of our route, despite the rare appearance of an actual trail. But sure enough, every so often we would come to one of the ribbon markers he had tied to a branch on one of his many other ventures through these parts in the more than thirty years he has been exploring them. We discovered a tiny lake, its edges teeming with lush, healthy vegetation, including thick waterlilies with their divine yellow flowers.

Later, we rested up the mountain and shared stories while taking in the most incredible view of the valley and the mountain ranges on the other side. Paul pointed to various peaks and glaciers, recounting adventures he had experienced there over his long lifetime of local exploration.

Alec and I parted ways with Paul and Alfred and I was shown the peaceful splendour of "Secret Lake", so called because it is so well hidden but it's not really a secret at all. In fact, when we arrived, there were two women sunning themselves on a floating dock. I recognized one of them as Joanne Nugent, the woman responsible for having hired Peter and I to play the Midsummer Festival.

We soaked our feet, allowing the many minnows to tickle our toes before heading down through more thick brush which Alec seemed so calmly familiar with, as if it were a well-beaten path. We parted new friends happily agreeing to become regular hiking buddies.

Next I need to pursue the leads I have on possible riding opportunities. There are so many horses all around, surely that won't be hard!

Smithers, BC • July 21 • Urban-Rural Contrasts

Above: the view from my mailbox. Breathtaking!

It has been many days of wet, chilly weather here, while my homies broil in the customary July Toronto heat wave. While I'd like to be making better use of the lounge chair I bought to induce some hardcore relaxation, the beauty of my surroundings and the inner stillness I am feeling make up for the dismal weather.

I stopped today at our mailboxes that stand at the crossing of Snake and Telkwa High Road. Turning back to the car from checking my mailbox for the first time I was stopped in my tracks by the view. Several snow-mottled mountain peaks rose up to cast their magnificence upon my humbled self. Then I had to chuckle to myself when I pictured the view in the dark hall of my apartment building where I collect my mail in Toronto. So many drastic differences. So many trade-offs.

I have been made intensely aware of the trade-offs between these two environments. When you live an urban life, you give up clean air, natural open spaces, abundant natural beauty and easier access to sanctuary in stillness. Live rurally, you give up traffic, parking problems and greater choice in goods, services and culture. Employment options are limited (especially for artists) and your grocery bills are high.

I have so much more ability to eke out at least a good chunk of my living via music when I'm in an international hub for the arts. In Toronto I get paid for sound design, DJing, making music for dance, video and theatre. But I crave a more visceral connection to living, breathing earth that is much less beholden to the designs of humans.

Garbage management poses other interesting contrasts. I am appreciating becoming more acutely aware of exactly how much waste I produce. I can't just move it from my apartment to the appropriate of three different bins outside. Garbage gets DRIVEN to the dump, paper gets DRIVEN to one place, glass to another, only plastic #2 is recyclable – it's quite an undertaking to get it all straight and accomplished.

But I could go on and on about the trade-offs and the scale would weigh out pretty evenly. Perhaps I will always be that urban-rural halfbreed. The point right now is to suck in this experience and relish in its unique gifts, to broaden and continually enrich my life experience with them.

Off to play (in both senses of the word) at the Kispiox Festival tomorrow. What fun to meet some cool new folks by suddenly playing with them at a much-loved gathering! Nice to ease into that familiar territory of playing bass with a band. Always love when the alchemy glistens. Then it's back to the cabin to surmount any further obstacles to playing and recording in my own musical garden.

Smithers, BC • July 14, 2011 • Grounded

It's taken two weeks but I was able to acknowledge to myself today that I feel settled. I descended into the black hole of a few days' illness and, now feeling much better, I've emerged into my clean and organized cabin, set up beautifully and with creativity in mind. Having previously felt a certain trepidation about getting rolling in my creative work, I had a joyful little jam today on a few different instruments (berimbau, bodhran, didgeridoo, hand drums) and now I'm excited to proceed. I had a satisfying breakthrough with my very sporadic berimbau playing. I removed the gourd from the original bow and attached it to an easier to play bow. I'm so much more excited to play the instrument now that my fingers don't hurt after five minutes! (For those wondering what the heck a berimbau is: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berimbau)

I have agreed to play bass for a local group called Los Gringos for their set at the Kispiox Festival.(http://www.kispiox.com/kvmf/) While it would be very easy (I've had four offers in a week), I really don't want to get busy playing in various projects while I'm here. But I wanted to attend this festival anyway and now I don't have to pay and I'll get to enjoy all the perks of being a performer! So learning a set of Gringos material is on the slab for today and tomorrow. Tonight I'll be improvising some cello, flute and kamel n'goni for a BBQ dinner attended by a few dozen BC judges. Sharon's band had to pull out at the last minute and I have agreed to be their replacement. It's at a lodge not far from where I live.

I come out onto my little deck to have my ears caressed by the symphony of natural sounds. At certain times, hours can go by without a human-made sound. I have begun meditating here, sitting on a blanket I've placed on the giant chopping log facing the mountain. There are several spectacular ranges on my drive from here to town. I've yet to know all their names. Names are useful for conversation, but I've never been very concerned with what humans decide to call natural entities. They just are. They don't need names. Even while feeling sheepish about interfering with Nature in any way, I can't say I'm upset that the poplar stand between my deck and the snowy peaks has been thinned!

The deck also provides a dreamy place for yoga, which I've begun doing about every other day. My body is thankful. For one who generally works out 3-4x/wk and just came out of yoga teacher training, I've had a terrible dearth of exercise in the last month. I joined the local gym yesterday and hope to get there roughly 3x/wk. It's right around the corner from the yoga studio where I plan to bring my fine letters of reference and schmooze the owner to see if she could use someone to cover for her at times. It seems to be a very small operation and I'm doubtful she'd offer me my own class.

I bought a bird feeder and seeds along with a hummingbird feeder. These gorgeous and playful little birds deliver great entertainment. They will come individually and survey me quite closely, dropping or rising to various vantage points, their wings buzzing as they chirp their chipper hellos. They will suck back some sugar and sudden rumbles will often ensue where that bird will chase away a gang of marauders who were coming to check out the scene. They can be surprisingly vicious for such cute and elegant little critters. But more typically they seem to be playing — little buzzing blurry balls that will chase each other right past my face or suddenly draw my eyes up, up, up and away.

Smithers, BC • July 11, 2011

I know evening has rolled into the still bright sky by the song of the Thrush, that sound that rivals that of the Loon in its beauty. These little singers have built-in delay units that seem to lay echo trails through the silver birch.

I was intensely aware of my sonic environment today. Spending the entire day and night at my cabin, I noted the lack of human-made sounds. Depending on the time of day, I can hear only one car go by about every hour and the very occasional distant airplane. Mostly there are only sounds of Nature — birds, insects and wind. This welcome soundscape creates a meditative head space for me and such peace and ease of movement.

Random Order Tour 09: Vanderhoof, Smithers and Haida Gwaii

July 30
Vanderhoof, BC

Damn but did we rock the small crowd at the Buffalo Bar and Grill tonight. It's such bliss when we all sync into one pure blast of positive intention. I rejoice in seeing this reflected in the smiles beaming from the audience.

August 3
Smithers, BC

Entering the quaint alpine town of Smithers always feels like coming home. Our dear friends Sharon and Betty make us feel like family returning after an absence that never feels very long. We played double bill with their band Damnsel at a small hall that echoed memories of high school prom night. I enjoyed lodging at the Sunshine Inn, Smithers' newest and largest hotel, and then the cozy snuggle of Sharon and Steve's motor home. We spent an afternoon escaping the blazing heat at a picturesque creek, chilling in the rapid-running mountain run-off, drinking cocktails and snacking on the cooler full of snack's Sharon had kindly prepared. One evening, after she was inspired by watching Lynn getting a shave to freshen up her mohawk, Sharon's 7-year-old daughter Melissa insisted that she get her own funky haircut. I was elected to do the honour and wound up giving her a haircut not unlike my own. Older sister Veronica was quite horrified, concerned about what her school friends will say. Hope she learns to appreciate that she has a unique, wonderful character for a sister.


Melissa, my l'il pardner in Smithers, gets a funky haircut.


August 7
Haida Gwaii

Coastal landscape in Queen Charlotte City.



Wednesday night's full moon brought a raucous group of women to Howler's Pub in Queen Charlotte City to celebrate the last night of single life for a certain bride to be. We were to follow the scintillating performance by a stripper called Diamond who was brought in from Vancouver to ignite the bawdy affair.

After piecing together a decrepit old sound system, I found great satisfaction in realizing a heavier groove, a greater accuracy and a more free and creative approach in my playing than I had enjoyed to date. If only our home audience could hear us this well-honed rather than to always get short shrift as our warm-up audience as we dust off the tunes for the summer tours.

On Tuesday, Manny, Miranda, Caleb and I embarked on a 9.5km hike deep into Old Growth Alley, a dense, mossy forest in Naikoon Park. I don't believe I have ever found myself so enveloped by such a wild place. An easy stray from the trail, only verifiable by the occasional and always welcome spotting of bits of blue tape affixed to the branches, could result in serious repercussions. There are bears and plenty of other wildlife in these ancient woods and one could easily become seriously lost. The enormity of the cedars, spruce and hemlock was humbling and awe-inspiring. There were places where I fancied myself lounging in a plush room carpeted on all surfaces by green shag. There were steep grades to climb and to scramble down. At the half-way point, we rested at a gentle stony river beach where Manny took a dip and Miranda and I soaked our weary feet. At this point, realizing we were only half-way after three hours, we grew more concerned with reaching the end of the grueling hike than with stopping to admire each grand tree or other breathtaking sight. We picked up the pace, beginning to stumble more often out of growing exhaustion. Once we made it back to the road, five hours later, our feet were aching, the cold beer was calling and we all had incredible new memories of such an arduous journey into deep, magnificent, untouched wilderness.

Tonight we dined seaside at our host Jason's home. He had caught Halibut and Spring Salmon the day before and it was all seasoned and grilled to perfection. I made a monstrous salad to which I added the delicious, salty crunch of sea asparagus that Jason had harvested and given to us. A while later I got my blood and lungs happily pumping with a few miles' run along the coastal road, followed by a game of fetch with Jason's lovely dog and a tour of his remarkable vegetable garden. And now, after a few hours' hanging with the gang into darkness, I'm cozied up in my tent while the Pacific beats the stony shore just a few hundred feet from this sandy ridge.




My belt: "CAUTION: WILD GIRLS". This tape was strung up around the Stagette venue.

Random Order Tour 09: First stop, Sasquatch Gathering, Drayton Valley, Alberta

The first Sasquatch sighting


Escape from the scorching sun


The refreshing respite of the fast-running river



July 24
Sasquatch Gathering, Drayton Valley, Alberta

Relieved to be sitting in one place after three days and nights driving from Toronto to the Sasquatch Gathering in Drayton Valley, Alberta. The blazing afternoon sun that sweat-soaked our tent pitching has given way to a chilly evening. After rinsing three days of traveling in the river, I've traded shorts and sandals for jeans and boots.

We're relaxing after dinner over booze purchased at Salty's Liquor Store in Vegreville, Alberta, where the cashier inquired enthusiastically about the scent she perceived me to be wearing. I found this quite puzzling considering I'd just rolled out of the RV I'd been living in for almost four days. I wondered if there could possibly be any remnant of the custom essential oil blend I may have put on days ago. I did list its ingredients to the keen woman, which she duly wrote down: Amber, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Patchouli. But when I reported the incident to the band, they all said it was my own special blend of pheromones and animal magnetism (a reference to the t-shirt I was wearing). Guess I have a way with the ladies in Vegreville!

July 25
Sasquatch Gathering

Sun singes through dry blue skies, licking up tiny wisps of white which are all that remain of last night's cloud cover that unrolled across the starry display. Music wafts across a faint breeze. Laughter sprinkles the air. Dogs convene and make new friends. Children romp, some naked and camouflaged by river mud.

My day's labour is to choose from moment to moment whether to read, swim, write, eat, drink, nap or wander toward the stage to soak in the energy at the vortex of this small but vibrant festival. The hot weather has made me lazy. I have thought of how good a run would make me feel, but there is a small window between relentless, unforgiving heat and the chilly dark of night. I'll wait until Prince George and the prospect of a shower to rinse the sweat. For now, I'll just give into the rare opportunity for utter slothfulness. I'll let all stress evaporate and relish having no need to live by the clock. My watch is stashed and I follow each impulse as it comes to me.

It was such a relief to unleash ourselves full-throttle on stage tonight after so much enforced stillness. We had the crowd dancing from the get-go. The highlight was the spectacle caused by a large blonde dog called Alastair (Ali) who came on stage in the midst of the shenanigans that always explode during Foxy Lady. Lynn was chasing Caleb across the stage with peeling blasts from the guitar. Ali faced Lynn's back, curious about the dramatic goings-on. I then straddled him and made like a bass-slinging cowgirl, riding hard and keeping the bottom end pumping. Later during the night, Ali found me walking and greeted me heartily as if to say, "Wasn't that cool, man? We really rocked, didn't we?".

The Final Chapter

Jumping for joy on the bungie trampoline at Mt Washington during my fabulous visit with Sharon and her two lovely daughters.

Having given it some thought, I've concluded with immense gratitude that this has been the best summer of my life. I spent six weeks entertaining enthusiastic audiences at festivals and other venues in so many incredibly beautiful places where I met many fantastic people, rode horses and swam in lakes and ocean. I had two weeks of sheer vacation time spent with dear friends — one week on an island in Georgian Bay, a few days on Gaiano Island in BC and two days at a beach house on Vancouver Island visiting some dear new friends. The past week I was happily engaged in the last module of my holistic massage course on Denman Island and I have just mailed my beautiful certificate home to myself. One of the delicious aspects of this experience was receiving hours of bodywork each day as we traded positions of giver and recipient. My only complaint is that I succumbed to a minor illness which has had me bothered by a persistent tickle in my throat. I have been thankful that I have generally felt fine other than the coughing.

These long days of study were exhausting but I was motivated by such a keen interest and desire to become very good at the work. I am recognizing that I have come to a point in my life where I spend most of my time engaged in things that I am passionate about and am very aware of the privilege of this, even while it has cost me in certain sacrifices at times — financial stability being one. But I am far more interested in richness of experience than material wealth and in this I am wealthy indeed.

My Galiano pal Onli is on her way to Denman and we shall spend the weekend bumming around Hornby Island before I fly back to Toronto from Victoria on Monday. I'll re-enter my Toronto life refreshed, cleansed by moist, forest and ocean air, with new skills, new friends and an enthusiasm for the next chapter. This chapter begins with hunkering down to my first opportunity as sound designer for theatre as I begin work on a beautiful play called Wild Dogs. Concurrently, I'll be working hard at learning a set of material for a new musical project called The Bhadra Collective.


Breakfast with Sharon on the last morning of my visit at her grandmother's adobe in Comox


Sharon's younger daughter Melissa and I became fast friends. She pressed me repeatedly for "gross-out stories" and I delivered many of them over the two-day visit. Here we are returning from having placed some beached starfish back into the ocean.


Galiano rocks


Approaching a grotto in a cliff face during a kayak outing in the waters surrounding Galiano Island


Beautiful reflections on the ceiling of a grotto in a cliff face along the Galiano shore.


My nest in the verdant woods on Denman Island. I slept deeply here after our long days of study.