Author: 4familyfriends

I write about the small and significant moments that shape our lives — family stories, friendships, personal observations, lessons learned, and the quiet experiences that often matter most. This site is a place to reflect on life with curiosity, gratitude, and honesty: the challenges that strengthen us, the people who influence us, and the everyday moments that deserve to be remembered. From cycling journeys and travel to conversations with grandchildren and reflections on resilience, I hope these writings encourage thoughtful living and deeper connection. My mission is to build a family legacy of strength, generosity, and steady & trustworthy leadership — embracing physical challenges, growing continuously, and encouraging my family and community to rise to theirs. I believe a meaningful life is built not only through accomplishments, but through consistency, kindness, endurance, and the example we leave for others.

My Trans-Canada Bike Adventure – Day 1 & 2

Mile Zero… Only 7,192 Kilometres to Go!

I arrived at Mile Zero early in the afternoon, although it felt as though I was already running behind. The skies were overcast, and a cool wind swept in from the Strait of Juan de Fuca, making it feel late in the day,

Officially, this was Mile Zero. Unofficially, it was about Kilometre 35—the distance I had already ridden from the airport. After getting up at 5:00 a.m. in Ottawa, crossing three time zones, wrestling my bike out of its travel case, assembling it, and navigating unfamiliar streets, I felt as though I’d already put in a full day’s work before my adventure had even begun.

I used to travel to Victoria on business in the 1980s and had visited Mile Zero several times. But this visit was different. This time I wasn’t simply looking at the monument or the statue of Terry Fox. I found myself standing quietly, reflecting on the courage and determination that monument represents. It felt like the perfect place to begin.

Like many cyclists crossing the country, I followed the tradition of dipping my rear wheel into the Pacific Ocean before setting off, hoping that, weeks from now, I’ll dip my front wheel into the Atlantic.

It sounds wonderfully quaint, yet symbolic.

It’s considerably less quaint when your fully loaded bike weighs about 110 pounds (I had to pull off the panniers for the last few feet!).

As I wrestled it toward the water, curious broadsword stopped to watch what must have looked like a man wrestling a bull by the horns to force it to do the opposite of what it wanted. The bike resisted every inch of the way down the steep hill and over the rocks to the ocean’s edge. I eventually won, but only on points.

Victoria has changed remarkably since my business trips decades ago. On this Saturday afternoon the Inner Harbour was alive. The streets around the Empress Hotel overflowed with people. Sidewalk cafés were full, musicians played on nearly every corner, flowers spilled from baskets and gardens, and the entire city seemed to be celebrating summer. If it wasn’t so grey, there would have been lots of photos.

As I pedalled north along the cycling paths, I found myself thinking about Robert Macfarlane’s The Old Ways. Describing the Camino de Santiago, he writes that every step is, in a sense, taken twice: one footfall along the physical path toward the destination, and another along a deeper, inward journey toward faith, clarity, purpose, and peace.

Perhaps cycling across Canada works the same way.

Every pedal stroke carries me closer to the Atlantic. But each one also carries me further along a more personal journey—a chance to reflect on life, family, gratitude, and what truly matters.

And perhaps there is a third journey as well.

Each kilometre is also for my sister, Dianne, whose memory rides with me every day, and for my brother. This ride is my way of honouring them while raising funds to help fight the disease that claimed their lives.

So Day 1 ends with just 7,157 kilometres remaining.

Not that anyone’s counting.

Day 2

…Started with the sound of rain pounding on my tent around 3am—rain that wouldn’t stop until I reached the next camp at around 7pm. I had my first taste of the trip packing up the soaked camping gear at 5:30 (I wanted to catch the 7am ferry sailing from Swartz Bay), and my first being top-to—bottom soaked thoroughly. When camping and clothing is advertised as “water proof”, it means that water will always prove it can get into everything.

Normally I would have taken lots of photos, especially on the ferry crossing, because I love going through the San Juan Islands, with the mountains looming in the distance. But the mountains and most of the small islands were burdened or hidden completely by cloud and rain.

So too was the long ride along the gravel bike trail along Boundary Bay. This entire delta section is as flat as the greyness of the skies…dull for photos but for the naked eye: the colours of the wildflowers and vistas of beach and old lumber logs and mud made for its own beauty of contrasts. Also it was low tide—it has smell all its own.

As I reached the end of Day 2, I was very thankful for the flats of the delta, because leaving it, meant that I had a lot of work climbing and descending as I’m beginning my entry into the Rockies. Though the mountains are shrouded in clouds, they are looming large and clearly in my imagination.

Entering Its Terrible Twos

Metaphorically, this journey of 7,000+ kilometres aligns with my age of 70. For every hundred kilometres I cover, the Journey is one year older. At the end, my Journey will become the same age as me—and we will see what we both have become.

So, today, this Journey’s life has turned around a year and a half old. It has left the early diaper phase (I’m hoping the raining/shitty weather is now mostly behind me), and the Rockies mark the entry of the journey’s terrible twos

As with last post, please consider donating….

My sister, Dianne, passed away on May 20th 2026, succumbing to Ovarian Cancer. It’s often referred to as the Silent Killer because, as in my sister’s case, the symptoms can easily be mistaken for other conditions, leading to delays in detection and treatment until it is too late. Please donate to help in research to end this dreadful disease, by clicking here.

My Trans-Canada Bike Adventure Begins!

Riding for Di

My plane just left the tarmac in Ottawa. I’m feeling much more than just the usual flight jitter. There’s no turning back now. I’ll land in Victoria in just a few hours, where I’ll unbox and assemble my bike, and ride to Mile 0–the starting point of my 7,192 km solo biking adventure.

A few doubts keep echoing again and again through my head, along with some well-meaning comments from friends as they learned about my plan, like:

“You realize you’re 70 years old, ‘humph’!”

“You haven’t thought this through! Solo?!”

And after my original departure had to be delayed:

“I hope you’ve abandoned the idea of cycling across Canada. I was afraid you’d lost your marbles.”

Perhaps they’re not entirely wrong.

Besides my age, craziness, and relative inexperience with bike touring, I know I will be challenged in ways I can’t fully imagine. There will be horrific weather events, promising to be made worse by this year’s Super El Nino (tornados, torrential rain, oppressive heat and drought, not to mention the smoke and dangers of the already out-of-control wildfires) and the physical challenges of peddling a bike through the Rockies and the endless miles of Northern Ontario.

Then there are the challenges I can’t predict: mechanical failures, finding enough food and water, sleeping well, keeping clean, and solving a hundred small problems that no amount of planning can eliminate.

My bike is boxed and waiting to be flown to Victoria BC where it will carry me for the next 7,000+ kms…I’m praying the airline doesn’t crush it the way my son’s bike was destroyed by an airline two month ago!

And, as I have been reminded of so often, there is health itself.

None of us can ever take it for granted.

As I sit on this flight, my thoughts are with my oldest sister, Dianne, who recently died from ovarian cancer, and my brother, Charlie, who lost his battle to cancer a year before.

When I told Dianne about this ride, I said she would be with me in my thoughts until I reached St. John’s. She talked about her intent to come see me when I went through Ontario or even better, at my journey’s end.

That was our plan. The journey’s end should have happened already.

Cancer had other ideas.

Around May 1st, as my original May 15th plan start-date approached, Dianne’s condition suddenly worsened. She believed she still had months to enjoy life with her friends and family, but instead she was given only days. On May 20, surrounded by those she loved, she chose Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID) to end what had become unbearable suffering.

Even during those final weeks, she never stopped encouraging me.

She told me, again and again, that she knew I could do this.

Those conversations have stayed with me.

There will undoubtedly be days on this ride when I question why I ever thought cycling across the vastness of this country was a good idea. There will be headwinds, mountains, exhaustion, breakdowns, loneliness, and moments when quitting will seem like the sensible choice.

When those days come, I’ll remember Dianne.

This ride has become far more than a cycling adventure.

It is a promise.

It is a tribute.

And it is my way of honouring two remarkable people whose lives ended too soon.

So despite the doubts—my own and everyone else’s—I am quietly determined to reach the finish line.

Every kilometre is for Di.

A few words about this remarkable person can be found here.

Lots of emotions while waiting for takeoff but on the whole it’s thumbs up—bring on the giants!

Carried Away by Wild Horses

Herds of wild horses have been known to attack people–would this herd be one those? I was alone in the Pyrenees mountains, quite out of my comfort zone. I had been hiking and climbing upwards for well over two hours to reach this remote spot, at about 2,500 meters of elevation, high above the tree level and I had no cellular phone coverage. I had been worried in places about falling and breaking something, but I didn’t imagine this situation and feeling this vulnerable and alone. I didn’t even mean to come this far. About a half hour earlier I had planned to turn around but, as I kept looking at a waterfall in the distance, about a hundred meters high, flowing over a ridge, I had the urge to keep on going. The view would be great from up there I thought.

The trail was dizzingly steep and slippery along the falls. I questioned my sanity in continuing. But as I crested the ridge, I saw the horses maybe twenty of them, about fifty metres away, on a ridge just slightly above where I was. They were not at all as delighted to see me as I was to see them. As I took photos, the horses glanced at me nervously, looked away, glance again, and stirred about nervously.

I was trembling with excitement and maybe a bit of fear as tried to get some photos of these beasts, with the mountain peaks behind them. I decided to put on a long telephoto lens so I could get some close ups of individual animals without upsetting them more. Unfortunately as I started changing lens, removing the current lens, one of the horses, a male and the most aggressive, started galloping back and forth in front of the herd. He had a shiny black coat and a shockingly long and messy mane that waved and flapped in the air as he moved. Blacky was the name of a neighbour’s horse when I was a kid, and so to me, this too was Blacky. He snorted, lay down on the ground and, while making grunting noises, almost as if laughing, he rolled back and forth on his back, with his feet in the air! Blacky got back upright, and bucked, causing a cloud of dust to explode off of his coat and mane…..I have never seen anything like this. It was so startling and comical, that I forgot I was holding a camera. If only I had video recorded it!

A raptor of some sort, maybe an eagle, screeched high above me. I turned and looked up and wondered if my telephoto lens would be adequate enough to photograph it? Suddenly I was aware of the sound of horse hooves racing toward me. As soon as I had looked away, four of the horses were charging, lead by Blacky. I put my camera down and turned to face them. They slowed to a stop just ten meters or so away. Blacky and the others moved forward a couple of steps. Waited. Then moved forward again. They then slowly moseyed up toward me. Blacky was looking at me carefully. His eyes dark. I was awestruck by how tall and massive the creature was. He was confident and intelligent in his bearing. I reached up with my hand to rub his forehead, wondering if he could sense my fear that he was going to bite me. His face was coated with flies. That’s why he was rolling in the dust I supposed, to get the flies off. I rubbed his forehead. As Blacky and his two buddies got comfortable with me, the whole herd came and surrounded me. I felt as if I had been adopted by the herd and, in my mind, I was being carried away with them.

There was a foal in the group that was black, so maybe he was the offspring of Blacky. He too was spunky and fearless. The foal, as I was told a few days later, was probably the reason why the herd was so aggressive toward me at first, wanting to protect this little guy. But at this moment, he didn’t see me as a threat at all. He was as mischievous as any bold little boy or girl. Whenever I had my back turned he would bite and pull at my camera bag, as if he was playing a trick on me…or because he could smell the crumbs and wrapper of an oatmeal energy bar I had eaten earlier?

COVID-19 Canada Day

covid-canada-day-6637 2020: No Parlement Hill celebrations for us nor for that matter any other Canada Day party or celebration. Still it was a day off and so we did what we could to celebrate being Canadian: a hike in the forest (Gatineau Park) and canoeing.

We met up with “In-Law Debbie” for the hike to Penquin Lookout.

covid-canada-day-6622 It’s a seven or so kilometre hike that is complemented by birdsong, smells of wild roses and ferns, and sites of interesting nature’s puzzles.

covid-canada-day-6610 This maple grew up around another tree, embracing it perhaps in the way we become entwined with special people in our lives, and when they are gone, their past influence shapes who we are.

covid-canada-day-6613 Other trees endure or eventually succumb to relentless forces…

covid-canada-day-6614 This rock has deep line scars across its face by glaciers as if it were merely a soap bar where children carve random lines through it with their nails.

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In the photo below, there’s two lighter rocks that resemble eyes, and a fissure in the rock that makes the rock look very unhappy… covid-canada-day-6611

Debbie and Deanna approaching the first major climb… covid-canada-day-6616 At Penguin Lookout. Moments of reflection of love and of what could have been…

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From hiking, we went canoing at Camp Dubois….here we’re canoing along the Gatineau River above the Chelsea Dam.

covid-canada-day-6634 This is the view coming back to Camp Dubois…

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And this is Camp Dubois!

covid-canada-day-6643 From Camp Dubois, there’s a lot going on:

covid-canada-day-6654 And yes we think Elly should get a dog…

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A Little Château Montebello Weekend

“‘It a bear!’ she screamed.”

Kelly’s telling her brother’s story about living in northern Ontario: “‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘She screamed bloody hell! She steps into the bedroom and sees this black bear with its massive head sticking through the bedroom window-screen just over the bed. Its nose right over my bald head! I can feel its breath move the few hairs left up there!'”

We’re listening like enthralled school children. We’re so engagned we feel the bear’s breath in our own hair.

It’s late in the evening but after much red wine and many good stories, no one is leaving the warmth and buzz around the towering fireplace in the central lobby of Le Château Montebello. There’s the smell of wood smoke and the sound of a piano man banging out the requests from the crowd, over the din of singing, laughter and chatter.

montebello-hotel-central-fireplace-6464 — This a photo of the central lobby in early morning. In the evenings, guests are drawn from their chambers to the warmth of the fireplace and to enjoy people watching and socializing while drinking wine or cocktails. There three levels of mezzanines for talking, playing card or board games, or just drinking and partying. It’s the inside of the world’s largest log cabin.

montebello-hotel-view-from-outside-in-snow-6469 — Morning walk outside Le Chàteau Montebello after over-night snow fall.

But back to stories…on first mezzainine level there’s thousands of photos, mostly black and white and they’re old. They tell stories of famous people who have visited the hotel over the years. There’re several photos from the 1981 G7 Summit that tell of the political tensions of the time, with world leaders like Pierre Trudeau, Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, François Mitterrand, and others. There are other even older stories too told by the photos of unknown young people, who have all likely passed away, dressed in the baggey but classy golfing, skiing, skating and other sporting gear of the 1930s and 40s. These are stories woven with themes of youthful hope and energy of other eras long past.

Fish Yogurt

The buffet breakfast at the hotel covers a city block! Well okay not nearly that expansive but there is an incredible amount of breakfast choices: of fruits, juices, breads, paisteries, crepes, cheeses, omelettes, bacon, ham, and all manners of items. Bright arrays of colours and yummy smells of bacon and eggs and other tempting goodies. I’m hovering here and there from one section of offerings to another, like a bee hovering about flowers in a garden, loading up my plate and wondering how many more trips between buffet and my table will be needed.

Some of the items are unknown or odd to me. Thankfully there are labels for each item–in French. Here’s one that’s labeled “Fish Yogurt?!!” It’s in a glass. It looks like some sort of goop with a salmon-sort of colour. My stomach churns for moment until my brain catches up–that while “pêche” is “fishing” in French, it is also “peach.” So “Yaourt Pêche” is quite tasty. I take a couple of glasses of it on my return to my table.

Tracker Debbie

Debbie is our self declared tracker. She has developed this interest in animal footprints–in what beast makes them, and in where and what time of day were they taken. We go on a morning walk along the Ottawa River behind the hotel and I’m hoping she will discover something exotic to share with us.

montebello-hotel-debbie-maurice-6472 — “Don’t mess up the cross-country ski tracks!” Debbie and Maurice, as a lignt snow falls, standing at the trailhead, with the Ottawa River behind them. While this looks like a trail into the wilderness, the reality is that in less than a kilometre, we are in ChocoMotive, an artisinal chocolate factory in the old trainstation in the village of Montebello.

There are some tracks of dogs and maybe some squirrels, but Maurice observes we’re so busy looking down we’re missing the action above. A Pileated Woodpecker swoops over our heads and into a tree, hammers and hops around a bit before disappearing into the forest.

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Why Can’t We Get Along?

The din of the yapping sled dogs can be heard from a distance. The dogs are tied up in a fenced off area and are really excited when different sled teams arrive and leave. These animals are beautiful…and quite big.

montebello-hotel-white-sled-dog-and-sled-6471 — This beautiful guy is tied off at a distance from the rest. Can’t get along?

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Two of the dogs launch into an intense fight-to-the-death looking kind of battle–until the handlers run over, separate, and calm these alpha fighters down. The others yelp and run around, excited by the entertainment.

montebello-hotel-sled-dog-trailer-6490 — The tiny door openings make the trailer look more like an oversized ant trap than a comfortable conveyer of canines. Somehow the handlers shoehorn each of the large hyper-active sled dogs into its own pigeon hole to transport them.

Short Weekend–Long Impact

I listen as Deanna tells a friend about our weekend. Highlights of curling, of hiking, of exercising in the gymn, and of swimming and hot tubbing, of loving the good food, wine and great company. For me, I’m thinking about a few emphemeral moments, of a dog fight, of fish yogurt, of animal tracking, of photos and of the feeling of a bear’s breath in my hair.

How Far Can You Go On Two Wheels Anyway?

Andorra view from Elly and Mike Rays on Mountain — Andorra, just a few hundred metres from Elly and Mike’s

A September to Remember

During our vacation, Mike reminded me of just how far two wheels can take you. In the last six years, two wheels would take him all over North America and Europe. They have taken him to Israel, the United Arab Emirates, China, Australia and other amazing places I have lost track of. They have taken him up to mountain peaks and they have rocketed him down descents at speeds over 110kph. Crazy. They have taken him to highest level of the sport to stand on podiums, and they have taken him to the lowest, taking him to hospitals, with fourteen or more broken bones (I lost count) and more cloth wraps than an Egyptian mummy, to cover wounds that look like they were made more by a tree shredder than by the road.

And for us? Those same two wheels have taken us, as family, to places we have never otherwise seen. Emotionally, they have taken us too, as parents, on a roller coaster that has made us sick with worry to having us laugh and cry with happiness.

So this September those two wheels again took us on a journey, to Andorra, Spain, Germany and Austria. They united our little family together to share thoughts, to laugh, to grieve, and otherwise experience the one of the wildest emotional rollercoasters imaginable.

The trip was bookended wonderfully, with Mike winning his first UCI Grand World Tour stage victory on our very first day of vacation, and on our last day, with Mike winning bronze in the World Road Cycling Championships!

Andorra

You’re going where? …Here!

But Two Wheels Didn’t Get Me Up to Mike and Elly’s Place in the Pyrenees Mountains

My sister asked me if I did any riding in Andorra.

No.

Mike and Elly rent a place high in the Pyrenees. I estimated that just to ride my bike to the end of their street and back would take me about four hours: 30 minutes to ride down the mountain switchbacks; 30 minutes or more to unclinch my fingers from the brake levers and to clean the “brown sweat” from my shorts; and then it would take me three hours to ride/crawl my way back to their place.

: View from Mike and Elly’s balcony, after sunset, down the road to the valley.

The best part of Andorra was hiking–that is, when we weren’t chilling at Mike and Elly’s.

Andorra Stage 19 — Ryland was chilling better than all of us…

Andorra Elly photo of Drew Water Fall — Just a few metres from Mike and Elly’s…Elly National Geographic’ing Drew and Ryland….

Andorra Stage 20 — In Andorra, like walking through a factory outlet on a city-sized scale.

Andorra Stage 19 Mike Meeting Ryland — Mike seeing his nephew for the first time ever.

Andorra Stage 19

Girona, Spain

Cloudy Day Girona — Girona: Cloudy early morning

Girona La Rambla Fixtures — Regulars on the Rambla

Decending Steps in Girona — Independence Day approaching.

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Ryland On Deannas Shoulder with Drew Supporting

Drew and Ryland Sucking Back Some Favourites — Girona: Father and son sucking it back.

Elly Ryland Girona

Danelle Ryland Coffee & Greens Girona — In a cafe in Girona, I caught Danelle lost in thought, perhaps fathoming the depth and breadth of a mother’s burden of love.

girona-danelle-ryland-elly-walking-up-steep-incline-4958

Mediterranean: Two Wheels to the Coast

: I made a solo bike ride to the Mediterranean and was rewarded with the spectacle of rain coming in from Africa.

At a Crossroad Tossa de Mar

tossa-del-mar-4730 — Tossa de Mar on a clearer day.

Cadaques, Spain

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cadaques-scene-4633 — Husband painting, wife reading.

cadaques-mike-swimming-4629 — Mike cooling off after our bike ride.

cadaques-mike-ryland-4645 — Ryland is okay with a hug after a sweaty Mike has cooled down and cleaned up by the dip in the bay.

cadaques-family-4639 — Sharing some of the sea’s and country’s treasures

Sailing from Sant Feliu

sant-feliu-sailboat-group-4757 — Mike’s teammate, Nate, and his girlfriend, Annie, sailed with us, out of Sant Feliu.

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sant-feliu-sailboat-drew-swimming-4820 — Drew cooling off, without spilling a drop.

sant-feliu-sailboat-toast-4815 — Toasting to family and friends.

sant-feliu-sailboat-mike-at-bow-4811 — Mike checking out the endless horizon.

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Munich, Germany: Oktoberfest

munich-octoberfest-dirndls-and-running-shoes-5028 — Lots of dirdls but not sure the shoes are always traditional.

munich-octoberfest-turkey-head-5039 — Oktoberfest crowd, but not sure about the turkey hat on the left.

munich-octoberfest-tent-5050 — The beer tents are the size of hockey arenas, and the beers are lined up, and the bands play on.

munich-oktoberfest-barry-beer-0143 — Having a small one in a nearby market.

munich-deanna-elly-oktoberfest-beer-4988 — A glass half-full kind of person

Off to Austria

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austria-seefeld-hike-trout-5072 — Seefeld, Austria; a stream ran along part of our trail where we spotted this trout, the water so clear the fish looked like it was flying in air. My being a farm boy who spent endless hours trout fishing, I felt a deeply rooted urge to get a fishing pole!

austria-seefeld-hike-eggs-on-fence-post-5087 — A farmer, I suppose, left these eggs on top of a fence post, planning to pick them up on the way back from the fields?

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Innsbruck: 2018 UCI World Road Cycling Championships

austria-innsbruck-waiting-for-race-5100

austria-innsbruck-wooden-bike-5105 — For my true bike buddy geeks, who build their own bikes, this and the next photo are for you to aspire to! Why bother with carbon fibre?

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austria-innsbruck-mike-racing-5146 — Crowds were four or five rows deep near the finish early in the day, and got more and more crowded as the day went on, so it was hard to get photos. Most of the viewing was on the jumbo screens around the finish.

austria-innsbruck-mike-on-podium-5169

austria-innsbruck-mike-discovery-elly-in-crowd-after-podium-5181 — After the podium, Mike sees Elly and races across to the crowd to see her, with the UCI anti-doping agent keeping him in sight!

world-championships-team — End of Day Celebrations: Team Canada’s Elite Men, along with announcer Randy Ferguson.

world-championships-mike-paulo — Special Athlete/Coach moment!

world-championships-mike-elly-antoine-2-2 — Happiness!

And so our September vacation ended…with celebrating Mike’s podium finish in the World Championships. It had started with Mike’s most significant athletic accomplishment in his life, and ended with another accomplishment even more significant, bookending for us three weeks of time as family, with a roller coster of emotions, and with a reminder of just how far two wheels can take you,

On “You look like a tourist” and on “Spending 39 years with a wonderful person”

“You look like a tourist!”

How insulting.

No shorts pulled up to my chest, no fanny belt, no Tilley hat, no athletic socks with sandals, no tour bus nearby!

So ok..I had a camera and…ok I was taking photos of the most popular tourist site in Ottawa, as if I had never seen it before. I was pretty intense, standing like a photo-geek on top of restaurant benches, trying to get the best shot possible of, ok, a pretty touristy landmark, on the penthouse level outdoor bar of the Andaz Hotel in Byward Market. Who else would be there or do this but a tourist?

A Tourist in My Home Town!

As I upload the photos from last weekend I have to concede I am a tourist…a habitual hometown tourist. I have billions and billions of photos of these sorts of things. Even I ask myself, why did I try so hard to get that photo? Why bother?

But with out-of-town friends things look different through their eyes. I love having them here…forcing me to see things differently than I have seen before

2018-08-11-peace-tower-and-library-from-andaz-hotel-4294 — Peace Tower and Library with the Ottawa River in the distance, from the Andaz Hotel in the Byward Market, Ottawa

2018-08-11-joerg-ann-deanna-from-andaz-hotel-4301 — Chilling in 35c temperatures on top of Andaz Hotel in the Byward Market, Ottawa

Seeing streets I frequently walk, but from a different touristy hotel perspective

2018-08-11-byward-market-2-from-andaz-hotel-4299 — View from the Andaz Hotel of the Byward Market, Ottawa. Usually I’m at street level–it’s even prettier from up here.

2018-08-11-byward-market-from-andaz-hotel-4293 — Byward Market and Gatineau Hills (which now has extra special spiritual significance for us) from the Andaz Hotel, Ottawa

Seeing the present through times past

Part of being a tourist I suppose is getting pulled into the history of a place…and I’m a armchair historian…with a layman’s perspective that would make any true historian laugh. Deanna often quips about my watching World War II documentarys: “I don’t know what’s wrong with him <me>, he keeps watching WWII documentaries and he already knows the ending!”

2018-08-10-joerg-and-ann-tavern-at-the-falls-4278 — Amazing, is it not, that 400 years ago (1613), Champlain wrote about this falls being a curtain (“rideau” in French) on the Ottawa River? All these years later, the analogy touches so much of Ottawa, from Rideau River, Rideau Canal, Rideau Township, Rideau Centre, Rideau Hall and so on. Looking at it today, as if for the first time, there’s a sense of depth and history in its beauty. I try to see it through Champlain’s eyes…

Small Serendiputous Surprises: Would Never Expect It!

We went to the Tavern by the Falls and a band was setting up. I have always had bad experiences with small-venue bands, with them playing too loud and too intrusive types of songs when all I want to do is enjoy good conversation with friends and a good amber beer. But…it was as if I was experiencing this sort of thing for the first time…

2018-08-10-joerg-and-ann-tavern-at-the-falls-4284 — Being surprised at the Tavern by the Falls, with a fun set of music by a rising young star: http://www.isabellanicole.co/

Two days later at work, I was in a queue to buy coffee and I recognized that one of the guys in line was the keyboard player for the band we watched. I said hello and remarked how much I loved the performance…so that’s what living in Ottawa is about…in a lot of ways it is a small town…chalk up one to a home-town tourist!

2018-08-10-joerg-and-ann-tavern-at-the-falls-4288 — We could always see what was coming up on the set!

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Ann

Joerg

How We Should Always See Things

Concerned and astonished! “Grandpa’s a Tourist!” This is how we should see all things from now on, as if we are seeing them for the very first time.

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39 years ago today, I saw someone who changed my life forever

All this happened on the weekend anniversary of a time 39 years ago when I met the most important person in my life. It was so distant in decades of time. It was so distant in thousands of kilometres. I wrote about that first meeting in my journal, seeing her for the first time, in Winnipeg back in 1979, where I was on a tourist’s errand. With her, I am still every bit a tourist, seeing her everyday as if I had not seen her this way before, but with a rich sense of times past and times spent together. Now, along with many serendituous surprises and with great friends like Joerg and Ann, my partner has blessed us with an amazing daughter, son-in-law, and grandchild, son and daughter-in-law and extended family (love you, Debbie) that has made me a home-town family tourist forever.

2018-08-12-ryland-joerg-ann-danelle-and-drew-in-backyard-4306 — Last Sunday morning together…a photo from a fanatical home-town tourist!

Last Saturday’s Hike on Penguin and on Losing a Grandson

2018-07-29-deanna-walking-on-trail-4244 The rainstorm ended before we began the hike. An intermittent breeze set off bursts of falling rainwater here and there which had been trapped in the canopy above, reminding of us of the intensity of what had come and gone. The sky began to clear. It was unseasonably hot when we started and the sun made it so much hotter. The air felt jungle-like thick with the smell of rotting leaves and earthy dampness. Mist rose from the rocks in the clearings. My clothes stuck to the sweat on my back and thighs. We barely spoke on our walk to the lookout.

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Still we would have loved to share this hike with you. We would have shown you in the way we had shown our very own children that nature is generous with her gifts. Some of them so small and fragile you really have to look closely to find them. And for us, well, we would love this seeing nature’s wonders as if we had never seen it before, through your eyes. I have always loved this. I would have told you the myth about why the trail is called Penguin. The story that, when you cross country ski on this trail, the trail is so steep, steeper than stairs, you end up walking up it in your skis, plopping your weight from one ski to the other, waddling all the way up to the lookout like a penguin. I would mimic the motion to make you laugh. I might have told you too the real story about why the trail is called Penguin, but I don’t think it’s nearly as much fun. Besides it was your dad who told me the fun story first–and it made me laugh.

I would have explained the squawking/croaking we heard was from a raven and not from a crow. That the other song was that of a red cardinal. That yet the other pretty song was from a bird I couldn’t recognize or maybe I would tell you, as I told your father when he was a boy and I couldn’t name the bird, that it was Big Bird from Sesame Street, something you and I could laugh at years from now.

I would have told you too the three bluejays that swooped in front of us, appearing and vanishing as fast as thought, looked like a mother, father, and a grown offspring.

If there were any chance you didn’t spot it before I did, I would have taken you off the trail a bit to marvel at the “Chicken of the Woods” fungi. Amazing what can flourish from something that was once was alive. New colour and vibrance. How would you describe it for me? What do you think of it? Nature is crazy. Or what would you think of the tree pushing against the rock, how some living things are forever shaped by chance, by things that are in their way? Or the red baneberries almost hidden…you have to look very closely to see them among the dead and rotting branches.

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When we reach the bench at Penguin Lookout, we sit and I catch my breath from the climb. It’s a beautiful place to view the expanse across the spread of forest and hills. This is where I share with you the joy of your cousin who was born just a week earlier. A beautiful baby boy. You would have loved him. After some moments, I think I can share with you some of the old and worn writings carved in the bench. They seem to be about other people’s ashes and memories that are scattered in this special place.

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One of the writings on the bench seems like a kind of message you might have felt.

Your mom and dad thought this would be a perfect place for you. It is. You’ll always have company here.

Spending time with you at Penguin Lookout, I feel that, regardless of all I could have taught you on hikes like this or during anytime we could ever have been together, I have learned so much more from you. Of how much your mother and father love you. Of how you’d never know what great parents they are. Of how we loved you without ever seeing you. Of how we need to appreciate all the little things just a little bit more.

On Visiting Netherlands and Belgium, and On Waiting

2018-04-16-Keukenhof Windmill-3948.jpg — How long have I been waiting to see windmills in Holland? Even when we drove into Holland we had to wait. We drove for an hour or so from Maastricht towards Keukenhof before we saw our first one…hah, the lack of windmills was seriously threatening my cliche world-view of Holland! But then they seemed to be everywhere. This one is the tourist feature at Keukenhof Gardens–and bonus: with a canal!

I Could Never Stand Waiting … for Anything

I think I must have been four and half years old when I got busted that Christmas Eve. I was on my hands and knees, trying to sneak past Mom and Dad’s open bedroom door to get downstairs to see what Santa had got me for Christmas. The creaking floorboards of the old farmhouse gave me away. “Back to bed!” Mom screamed from inside the dark doorway. I scurried back to my bed as fast as any terrorized mouse would, knowing, as all four year olds must know, disobedience to a parent would be certain death! Still I did try it again that night. Waiting was killing me.

I couldn’t stand waiting back then, and I can’t stand waiting now. In a lot of ways I guess I’m still a four year old. If this spring I could have snuck down the hallway and down the stairs to get away from an unseasonably long winter in Ottawa, to take a sneak look at spring in Netherlands and Belgium, I would have gladly done it!

How long have we been waiting to visit the Netherlands to see the windmills, the canals, the flowers? Hah, a lifetime. How long have we been waiting to experience Belgium, to taste the chocolate, the fries, the waffles? Drink the beer? Probably since university—which, if you listen to my kids, is at least a hundred years. So while we planned this trip only a few months ago, primarily to watch Mike race in the Ardennes Classics, we have been waiting so much longer for this trip and for the life experiences that this trip and this spring would bring us. It would pull us back through history, it would involve Mike’s biggest athletic success to-date, and it would happen all while we are waiting, longing for, something far bigger yet! I can’t stand waiting….

2018-04-16-Keukenhof Flowers for ever-3961.jpg — Keukenhof: almost too much sensory overload after months of waiting, while shovelling snow in Ottawa!

2018-04-16-Keukenhof Not quite in full bloom-3960.jpg — While still not yet in full blossom, this is an impressive river of blue to watch as it shimmers lightly in the breeze.

2018-04-16-Keukenhof Tree in blossom-3946.jpg — Brilliant light and colours and startling whiffs of fragrance are everywhere.

2018-04-16-Keukenhof Enjoying Others' Selfies-3951.jpg — Waiting for the right selfie moment…and btw what do we think about selfies?

2018-04-16-Keukenhof Flowers out of anything-3949.jpg — Spring flowers spilling out of everything! In 2010, the record was set for squeezing the most people into a beetle: 20…wondering if this could be a daffodil record.

2018-04-14-Small Car in Maastricht-3859.jpg — Waiting to cross the street in Maastricht, Netherlands, and wondering why, back in North America, the best selling vehicle is the Ford 150 Truck. How many of these guys can you squeeze into one F150!

2018-04-14-Bike Parking in Maastricht-3862.jpg — Maastricht: this is how an above-ground parking lot should look! How many Ford 150’s can fit in this space?

2018-04-14-Ancient wall in Maastricht-3852.jpg — Waiting doesn’t seem to be a problem in a timeless sort of place like Maastricht. You can have a beer pretty much anytime.

2018-04-16-Bruges Strolling along the Canal-3981.jpg — Savouring a moment, while crossing a bridge in Bruges, Belgium.

2018-04-16-Bruges Strolling the Street-3964.jpg — Exploring Bruges

2018-04-16-Bruges Belgium Chocolates, Wafles-3995.jpg — We didn’t have to wait long to complete our To-do list for Bruges:✓Eat Belgium chocolate, ✓Eat Belgium frites with mayo, ✓Eat Belgium waffles…✓Drink lots of Belgium beer. Done!

2018-04-21-Lieu0300ge 384 Steps to go-4148.jpg — Liège: No stepper machine necessary in this city. Only 374 steps to reach the top.

2018-04-21-Lieu0300ge 384 - 300 Steps to go-4151.jpg — And we did–Deanna making the peak.

2018-04-20-Durbuy Little Things-4120.jpg — Small pleasures of walking through the medieval town Durbuy. It claims to be the “smallest town on earth” with a population of 500.

2018-04-22-Durbuy-Outside our B&B Early Morning-4170.jpg Early morning view from behind our Bed and Breakfast near Durbuy.

2018-04-20-Durbuy Tandem Bike-4124.jpg — Durbuy: the kind of bike you might catch me riding, but the baby seat doesn’t look too comfortable nor does it look CSA approved.

2018-04-22-Leuven Dinner while enjoying skyline-4196.jpg Last evening in Belgium, eating frites and drinking Trappist beer in an outdoor cafe downtown Leuven.

Seeing our world through a little of Belgium history

Belgium is sometimes called the “Battleground of Europe” and evidence of it can be seen everywhere, with fortifications or monuments that go back to well before the Romans.

2018-04-19-Waterloo Lion-4087.jpg — Waterloo: I now have a visual for when someone uses the expression, “He met his Waterloo.” This is “La Butte du Lion” near Waterloo, commemorating where Napoleon’s forces were defeated in 1815. Only about 200 years ago.

2018-04-19-Waterloo in the Museum-4080.jpg — The Battlefield of Waterloo Museum made the issues of the time real for us. We came away with a feeling of what life must have been like at the time, and a better understanding what lead to this “global” crisis and what happened that would bring relative peace to Europe for almost a hundred years.

2018-04-18-Waterloo Feeling Old?-4097.jpg — Looking at the field Napoleon’s army crossed under fire to engage in the battle of the Ferme de Mont Saint Jean

2018-04-18-Ypres Tyne Cot Memoria-4009.jpg — World WAR I: I read that the Tyne Cot Cemetery, located near Paaschendaele, is sometimes called the “City of the Dead,” with almost 12,000 dead resting here, of whom only 3605 could be identified. In the museum you read some of the letters and accounts of the soldiers, their parents, their wives or their girlfriends and feel a painful connection. Many of the parents of the fallen would have been my age. Again and again you can’t help but be puzzled that humanity does this to itself too often.

2018-04-18-Paaschendaele Canada Gate-4004.jpg — Looking through “Canada Gate” at all the open space, across which the Canadians would finally have to attack to take the Paaschendaele objective.

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From near Canada Gate, looking at the open fields the Canadians had to cross to reach this ridge, it is tough comprehending that this quiet pastoral setting could be a place of such misery and horror shown in the photos of the time (from the Canadian Encyclopedia.ca)

The “Memorial Museum Paaschendaele 1917” also immersed us into the era and political forces that lead up to the war and its terrible loss of some 16 million lives.

2018-04-20-Bastogne War Museum-4103.jpg — One of the major battles of World War II was the Battle of the Bulge, involving a mind-boggling number of men–more than a million (some 600,000 Germans, 500,000 Americans and 55,000 British fighters). This immense statue outside the museum celebrates the end of WWII that saw some 65 million people killed.

Re-looking at our current political world through the lenses of our Belgium experience, a person has to be concerned. This trip renewed a commitment to encourage everyone I come in touch with to speak up against populism, nativism, lies, bigotry, and indifference and to support good journalism! After all, does Belgium or the rest of the world need any more of these monuments or museums to human stupidity?

Bike Racing in Belgium….REAL BIKE FANS!

To watch bike racing live is all about waiting. You have to go early to a good viewing spot and wait, and wait, and wait until you hear the TV helicopter approaching…and then wait more…

2018-04-18-La Fleche Wallonne Mike-4036.jpg — Finding Waldo…the tough job of being a cycling fan, and especially a cycling parent, is probably picking a face out of some 180+ other cyclists surrounded by thousands of fans…and yes, he’s the skinny guy in sunglasses and colourful helmet and kit!

2018-04-15-Mike racing in Amstel Gold-3914.jpg — …and sometimes a rider can pick out a fan in a crowd!

2018-04-18-La Fleche Wallonne Mike 250m to go-4074.jpg — This climb, *Mur de Huy*, is a lot steeper than it looks in this photo. And as a newbie cycling fan, I’m only beginning to appreciate the rich history of climbs like this in *La Flèche Wallonne* and humbly recognize how lucky Deanna and I are to scream our support for Mike here.

2018-04-18-La Fleche Wallonne Karol-4051.jpg — Days after this photo, Karol-Ann Canuel let us know that she heard, among the thousands of other cheering and noisy fans, Deanna and I scream “Allez, allez, Karol, bon anniversaire!!!” near the top of *Mur de Huy* but she didn’t realize it was us. I guess you’d have to wonder what idiots would be wishing her a happy birthday at the apex of this sufferfest! Just a note to Karol after watching this, I personally won’t be doing any *Mur de Huy’s* on any of my birthdays.

Finally, about waiting

As much as I hate waiting, there is something so special when you realize what you are waiting for, is turning out to be better, sweeter and more fulfilling than your best expectations. That’s what happened that long ago Christmas morning. And too it happened big time for us in Belgium when Mike made his first UCI World Tour podium. We have waited and watched him and his wife work so hard, for so long, and sacrifice so much, for them to get him there….it was tears-of-joy sweet to experience…but I’m feeling it is not so sweet as what we are waiting for next from them and from Danelle and Drew in the coming months…I gotta say it again, I can’t stand waiting!

5 Lessons The Coldest Christmas Holiday Has Taught Us in 2017

It’s never been this friggin cold over Christmas in my memory! With temperatures dropping to -28c and windchill to -40c, it would have been a good holiday to stay cosey by the fire with a warm drink, but we didn’t. We spent a lot of time outdoors and the cold granted us a few lessons. It taught us, among many other things, these five little holiday lessons.

2017-12-24 Drew and Danelle Patinage en Forêt 01-2164 — The Christmas Day Family Hike has become a core family tradition for us and every year is seems to get bigger. This year was by far the biggest AND the coldest! Next year’s will be bigger but hopefully warmer!

Lesson 1: when it’s really cold, the crowds stay indoors, leaving you lots of room to enjoy places like “Patinage en Forët.”

It was Christmas Eve and it was almost as if we owned the skating trail, all 3km of it! Only a handful of others braved the cold to be on the circuit.

2017-12-24 Drew and Danelle Patinage en Forêt 01-2164 We lapped the circuit several times, loving the sensation of skating in amongst the trees, smelling the pine, hearing the crunch of skate blades on ice, and the sound of the wind through the tree branches–which randomly released clouds of snow on us.

We had enough crowd-free space to attempt skate dancing and backward skating! We returned to the cabin with lots of snow on our bums and knees—proof of our not so perfect ice skating prowess!

Lesson 2: when it is “Too Cold To Snow,” it can! It was -21c in Gatineau Park on Christmas Day, and with windchill it felt like -38c! I have often heard that, when it is this cold, it is too cold to for heavy snow–and generally the statement has held true for me, but not on this Christmas holiday.