A snowy day hiking in the footsteps of First Nation traders and conquering my fear of the cold

I was balancing right at the center point of one of the three logs which formed a ‘bridge’ and were our only way of crossing the creek, when one of the other women on the day hike shouted “welcome to Canada”. Holding in the burst of laughter that might just put an end to my trapeze act, I looked up at the snow covered Evergreens which circled the creek and grinned.

Hunched over, I tentatively moved my hands further along one of the logs, finger nails digging into the bark, before sliding my submerged feet along after. A few more slow shuffles like this and I was on dry land. We had used the logs to cross earlier that day, but it was no less nerve-racking the second time.

So, once on dry land and feeling the rush of pleasure that follows fear, I victoriously cracked open the Trench Vodka Seltzer I had saved for this moment.

I had not been quite so confident of enjoying a long hike in the snow that morning. To say I have a fear of the cold is probably not an over exaggeration. My whole life, I had happily avoided being in any deeper snow that the pathetic sprinkling the South of England gets occasionally.

Needless to say, I’ve never been Skiing or Snow Boarding and my idea of a cold day was, until very recently, anything below +12 Degrees Celsius. So when I woke up early on the morning of my first full day hike with the Pretty Wild Adventure Co. to find that largest amount of snow I’ve ever seen had fallen over night, I was a little nervous about whether I’d actually enjoy a full day hiking in the Canadian cold.

I should not have been. The Pretty Wild Adventure Co is all about taking women on outdoor adventures in a relaxed and genuinely friendly atmosphere. The company is run by two women whose positive, bubbly personalities are infectious. There is no ‘I’m the best backwoods women’ competitiveness, no-cliques and no judgement about what you may find challenging.

There’s just outdoor adventures, good fun and a bag full of beverages from Trench (a local Brewery and Distillery) to dig into on every hike. Oh and to top it all there’s a Swag Bag of goodies from local businesses to be won by one adventurer each hike.

On the trail, our footprints are the first to break the snow. Perhaps because it’s a week day, we haven’t been beaten to it by other hikers. In fact, we don’t see another soul all day.

The overhanging branches frame a long, narrow path but I am careful to avoid brushing them as I go by, not wanting to upset the snow which is perfectly balanced on top of each twig and end up with a deposit of sludge down the back of my neck. Many of these trees are barren, but the green of the pine’s needles is vivid against the snow. It weights down the branches, making them point to the ground and so the whole tree looks to be drooping under the snow’s weight.

At times the trail widens as the Evergreens retreat from the path revealing a white line cutting into the distance and letting more in of the cloudy sky. It is mostly overcast but there are moments when the sun comes through a patch in the clouds, the rays are splintered by the trees and it falls on the trail making the snow sparkle.

As we walk along I make the work easier by placing each foot where one of my adventure companions had already trodden down the snow for me. But we are all walking in the footsteps of the Lheidli T’enneh First Nation people who called this path Lhdesti, and used it to connect them to the many waterways which were integral to their way of life. L

hdesti, meaning ‘the shortcut’, is a fitting name as this trail is the shortest route between the waterways which flow to the Pacific Ocean and those which lead to the Arctic Ocean.

But google ‘Lhdesti’ and you’ll notice this trail does not bear that name, instead it’s called Giscome Portage. Named for one of the first two white men who – led by a indigenous guide – walked this trail while travelling North of Fort George to prospect for gold and described it in a subsequent news article.

Just at the point when we found our stride, our path opened onto a clearing with a small creek and the sorry remains of a washed out bridge. For a moment it appeared we had no way of crossing the creek until we found a cluster of three tree trunks which were laying across the water inviting us to cross. Each log was covered in layer of melting snow and bowing in the middle so that they dipped into the water. I felt that delightful rush of fear and excitement.

Part of me was secretly delighted that we were faced with this unexpected challenge. Meanwhile the rest of me was looking at the bitter cold brown water wishing the bridge was in place. As I followed the first person across, using both hands and feet, I wondered if this is why we all get a drink from Trench Brewery: to act as a ballast in our bags for such crossings (or perhaps to warm us up after we go in!).

Once safely across, I was chuffed to have overcome a real and unexpected problem in the Canadian wilderness. I checked my smugness when I remembered I would have to repeat the feat on our way back.

For the most part the dense forest beyond is silent and still. But my breath and the crackles and crunches of snow being compacted are constant. Later in the day we hear the occasional loud thud as the afternoon sun melts the snow and it drops from branches.

There are some places where the snow deceives you, it covers the squelchy mud beneath. As my boot goes in the mud and snow oozes around my laces and I can feel the suction as I step out. I discover the weird pleasure of disturbing pristine, flat white snow with a boot print and the joy of kicking it up so it falls like icing sugar over a cake.

As we reach the end of the trail each little detail I’ve learned about walking in the snow, overcoming crossing a creek with no bridge and the pleasure of chatting with adventurous women combines with the tiredness from a days exercise to create an immense feeling of satisfaction.

But there is more than that, somewhere along this trail I have overcome my fear of the cold. Lhdesti was my shortcut to understanding snow and now I am ready for everything a Canadian winter has to offer.

But as the first thing on offer, as we drive back towards Prince George, was to meet some ‘real Canadians’ (one of the group leader’s family) and ‘try a Caesar’ (a classic Canadian cocktail) I’m more than happy to head into the warm for now.