A short, steep hike up a wonderfully named mountain led us to some very rewarding views. Being spring in northern British Columbia we had to be prepared for everything: snow, sun and bears!
A steep mountain, with a great name
Teapot Mountain is an impressive sight as you walk up the road to the trail head, where the accent begins. It rises steeply out of the surrounding landscape looking rough and defiant and proud as it looms over the road.
The night before Jacob’s birthday, in early April, we told our friends that we planned to hike Teapot the next day. “It’s the steepest thing I’ve ever hiked, but the view from the top is incredible” was their exciting recommendation.
Teapot looming over the roadReady for a steep climb!
Spring hiking
Spring is an interesting time here in Northern BC, it can be snowing one moment then warm and sunny the next. Thankfully, the sun had come out for Jacob’s birthday and for the first time in months I left the house for an adventure with my without thermals!
But, we knew that out there, 50 minutes north of the city, there would still be deep snow. Therefore, we packed the car with the full array of equipment: sunglasses and sunhats as well as snowshoes (photos here) and spikes (photos here).
When we arrived we decided on wearing our spikes and leaving the cumbersome snowshoes in the car. This was a good call as the snow on the path was trodden down, the deeper snow was easy to avoid and the trail was icy so spikes were a perfect anchor on the steeper sections.
Teapot Trail!Might be laughing. Might be asking for oxygen.
Up we go
Unsurprisingly, for a mountain that rises so sharply from the surrounding landscape, the trail becomes a steep accent almost immediately. The basalt rocks which scatter the tree-lined path give it a ruggedness and create the impression that you’re climbing something far higher and more challenging. Although, let’s be honest, some of the steep sections were quite challenging enough!
Although it’s steep, no one could possibly get only half way up. The sneak previews of the rewarding view, which grab your attention as you climb up, leave you in no doubt that the work now will be worth it when you reach the top.
The top of the Teapot! Jacob at the top!The top of the Teapot!
Preparing for a bear
Being without thermals and leaving the snowshoes in the car were not the only changes to our hiking routine now spring has arrived. We now have bear bells clanging away, alerting a bear to our presence so as to avoid startling it, and bear spray attached to the waste belt of our bags.
Bear spray is an aerosol spray which acts as deterrent against charging and aggressive bears because it contains the irritant capsaicin, which is the active compound in chills. If you’ve ever rubbed your eyes after chopping chilies, you’ll understand why 98% of people using bear spray correctly, during close-range encounters, escaped uninjured!
You may be wondering whether carrying bear spray is really necessary. It is. The Prince George area has a thriving Black Bear population. They are commonly seen in the city, in fact, there have been an average of 890 bear sightings a year in Prince George in the last ten years.
Taking into account these statistics, with the fact that they actually prefer areas of dense woodland or bush, you have to expect and be prepared for them when hiking in the back country after their hibernation ends in the spring.
Many locals have assured us that the sound of human voices and bear bells is often enough to keep them away and that, should you see a bear, making yourself ‘big’ and talking to the bear in a low, calm voice usually sends them away. If not, should they approach, out comes the spray.
Bear spray at the ready!I seemed to have developed a bit of a ‘Bear Belly’
The reward
When we reached the top of Teapot, we were among the tree tops looking out south over Summit Lake towards miles of forest. As we followed the trail around the top, the sun was moving to the west, there were less clouds and so the snow covered swaps and creeks which lie below the mountain were glowing.
Whichever direction you look towards from the top of Teapot, the view in the distance, far off on a tantalizing horizon, is the same: snow capped mountains.
One mountain, not so far away, often descried as Teapot’s twin, is looking particularly tempting for the next adventure. I wonder if you can guess it’s name?
Spring is here! We’ve survived our first Canadian winter! Here are some lessons we’ve learned about life in a cold climate and an embarrassing story in which I open a car window on a very cold morning.
Frozen whiskers, boots on and a winter coat that cost 13 times what mine did!Cold evening, but a stunning sky
Something has changed recently. Locals no longer say ‘wait until it’s -35C’ or ‘wait until it’s still snowing in May’ when I tell them I love this town. Along with the recent warmer weather, has arrived a new level of acceptance, even respect, when I’m chatting to the weather-hardened people of Prince George.
It’s lovely that surviving our first winter has earned local’s approval, it certainly makes me proud when chatting in the queue at the post office, but let’s not pretend there weren’t some steep learning curves and embarrassing moments in getting to this point!
The snow is melting revealing 100s of these scattered all round our local ice rinkBuried feet: good job we got those boots!
A few facts
Prince George’s daily average low temperature for winter is -10C.
Prince George’s daily average high temperature for winter is -5C.
Prince George commonly has week’s where temperatures plummet to around -35C in winter.
The lowest temperature ever recorded in Prince George is -50C.
Setting sun on a chilly afternoonJacob and Bally on the road behind our house
Tips from the experts
During one of our online meetings the young, hardy, northerners who make up 3rd Prince George Girl Guides, who I’m a leader with, gave me some impromptu advice on managing the cold weather. Here are a few of their suggestions…
When it’s really cold don’t go out. During the week of -30C Bally the Greyhound fully subscribed to this suggestion. He had to be dragged outside. Once out, he’d do the necessary as soon as possible and run back in!
Moisturiseeverything. I can attest that you’re skin gets really dry when the temperature drops. To the point that it actually hurts!
Don’t underestimate the cold. I’d like to say this one was easy for me to stick to, given how fearful I am of ever feeling the slightest bit of cool air prickle my skin. But as the story at the reveals, we all make mistakes.
Get outside and have fun. It’s true that the more you get out and embrace the cold, the more you not just cope, but thrive! Unless it’s really cold of course, then I subscribe to the Bally school of thought mentioned above.
A blue sky over our street on a cold morning
Some lessons we’ve learned about keeping everyone warm
Any advice you read will say that the secret to keeping warm is layering. But I could have told you that before living here and I know that you, wherever you live, could too.
Surviving everyday life in the Canadian winter for us – one person who hates the cold, one who loves it and an ill-suited dog – has meant learning about and buying things which I had never used before – such as micro spike – or using items – such as mittens – in ways I did not appreciate before!
I had no idea before living here that there could be times when gloves could be absolutely pointless and mittens life saving! When it’s really cold gloves offer feeble assistance compared to the protection of a good pair of mittens that allow your fingers to rub together and generate heat! To think I spent thirty years thinking mittens were just for toddlers!
Having never spent an extended amount of time somewhere snowy or icy before, micro spikes were a new concept to me! You slip them on over your boots to give you extra traction in treacherous conditions! They come in many different types: everyday, running, hiking, glacier walking, the list goes on! We opted for a pair for pavements with small studs and a pair for hiking with larger spikes (see photo below)!
Naturally, if you bring a dog to Northern British Columbia who is completely inappropriate for this climate you have to drop some serious dollar equipping him! Most doggies here are rugged, hairy creatures but poor Bally (our rescue Greyhound) is short haired and has legs of dubious strength, due to a break previously in one and ligament damage in another.
Before the first snow had fallen we had bought the lovable, lazy lump four high rise boots and a Canadian-made thick winter coat; it’s called the ‘Great White North’ and designed for temperatures as low as -30C. Aside from when it was below -30C and he refused to go outside, he seems to have enjoyed frolicking about in the snow!
It’s unsurprising that Bally and I have needed some additional help to encourage us outside at times. But comfortingly even Jacob’s toes needed some assistance.
After returning from quite a few hikes, sticking the kettle on and warming up, only to find that Jacob’s feet were still worryingly blue, Jacob had to invest in another item we’d had no call for before:insulated winter hiking boots with a frost plate and a soft shell zip cover!
Our street on a bright morningFrozen hairApplying protective paw wax to a pampered pooch
Some lessons we’ve learned about the car and driving in the cold
The coming cold had to be considered before we even purchased a car in Prince George. Following many local’s advice we opted for an SUV with 4 wheel drive to make our first winter driving in deep snow as safe as possible.
The next consideration was tires: you need a set of ‘winters’ and a set of ‘summers’. Winter tires are important as they have a softer compound which makes it easier for them to grip roads even when there is ice or snow. Thankfully the car we bought already had it’s ‘winters’ on and a set of ‘summers’ too.
By the time we finally bought a second hand car good enough to get us through the winter, but not so good it would break the bank, the snow had arrived! Slow and steady was my mantra for the challenge of learning to driving in snow, on the right, with a new highway code!
Thankfully, the stereotype about Canadians being polite is mostly true, for the most part the roads are dual carriage ways and the speed limits are crazy low, so I rarely felt under pressure to go against my mantra.
We used a block heater to ensure that the engine started on really cold mornings. The block heater is an electrical heating element which is embedded in the engine block. There is an electrical cord which hangs out the front of the engine. You plug this into a electricity cable, we run ours from the garage.
We had ours all set up, when I got home from work one day to find Jacob – an expression of exasperation on his face – had come out to meet me bearing the damage from my hasty departure that morning in his hand: the ripped off plug from our block heater. Not being used to having to ‘unplug the car’, I had driven off without doing so and ripped the plug from the wire which hangs out the front of the engine. Woops!
Fixed! Just need to remember to unplug it before driving off every time next winter!Pavement footwear and spikes on the left, hiking on the right!
An embarrassing story from a cold morning
It was -30C, but the forecast had warned it would ‘feel like -40C with the wind chill’. Jacob had kindly cleared off, and got the car running, ready for my drive to work.
I yelled goodbye and got in the car as quickly as possible, not wanting to linger long enough to feel the unpleasant sensation of cold air as it catches in your throat.
Bundled in layers of clothing and wearing thick gloves, I was not far from work when I got to a junction where I needed to turn left (across the path of oncoming traffic). The sun was streaming down upon my wind screen and I could not see a thing ahead of me.
Knowing that I should be turning, but unable to see if it was safe to do so, I panicked and made a big mistake.
I opened the window to look out.
In my defence, this solved the visibility problem and I turned left safely. The problem was, the window would not close.
Cold air began filling the car and not just a bit cold. Burning exposed parts of my face, stinging my nostrils and making my eyes water. That kind of cold.
But hit the electric button as hard as I might, the window just gave a feeble noise, churned upwards half a centimetre and stopped.
Then I made another big mistake. I took a glove off.
Now, one hand on the wheel, with the pathetic fingers of the other hand grasping at the glass, I tried to pull it up. I knew I’d made a mistake when the bones of my hand strung from the cold, this was confirmed when my finger tips started to stick to the glass.
I’d like to tell you that I put my glove back on and drove to work as safely as it is possible to do when it ‘feels like -40C’ and your car window is down.
But I didn’t.
I shock my hand, forcing the blood to the tips, put the glove back on for a bit, then took if off again and repeated the whole ridiculous frostbite encouraging charade. Probably about five times in total. Each time believing that this time the window would give in and work.
The madness only came to an end when I arrived at work.
Being a committed believer that machines respond to the ‘turn it off and on again’ solution, I parked up and turned the engine off, sure that the window would work when I started the car again.
Ten seconds later I twisted the key to be greeted by the sound of a sad, spurting car engine which would not start.
So now I’m stood in a school car park, it’s -30C, I’m surrounded by competent Canadians getting happily out of their cars; my window won’t do up and my car won’t start.
At that point the school bell sounded informing me that I was, on top of everything else, late.
At that point I decided to walk away and leave my dead car with it’s open window.
Worst case, I’d return to find it full of snow and fag butts flicked in by teenagers during recess.
Best case, the winter sunshine would heat it up and solve all my problems or perhaps the teens would create a competition for who could get the window up.
A few weekends ago we enjoyed one of the final ski sessions of the season with a few friends in the sunshine at Caledonia Nordic Ski Club.
I’m sitting in a patch of sun on the snow, where the trees meet the trail, taking my second ski break of the morning. Across from where I’m sat families are gathered around the the fire pit sipping hot chocolate and comparing the trails they have skied that morning. Occasionally the yells of a small girl asking her mother to watch her as she takes on a big hill, in the old gravel pit, can be heard.
Slowly the snow is making my bum cold, but I don’t move. My thumb is throbbing gently where skin was scraped off when I fell over just now, but I don’t care.
I’m feeling the immense happiness from a morning of exercise, a cup of tea in my hand and the sun warming my face.
This is bliss. Moments like these are what I came to Canada for.
Meanwhile elsewhere in the large complex of ski trails, Jacob is enjoying the moments he came to Canada for. Rather than people watching and tea sipping, he is still skiing. He is a reasonable cross-country skier now. I’m judging this on the fact that he can keep up with our friends, despite their experience and the fact that they are ‘skate’ skiing.
Cross Country skiing at Caledonia Nordic Ski Club
The Caledonia Nordic Ski Club has 55 kilometres of groomed cross-country ski trails, including some that can be used with your dog and others that are lit for night skiing.
To put it simply – I literally don’t have the knowledge to put it any other way – cross-country skiing is on flat terrain, with some accents and descents. When we’re faced with an incline Jacob tackles them with a startling smoothness, whereas, I’m often seen moving backwards down the hill in slow motion.
Cross-country skiing is split into two types ‘Classic’ and ‘Skate’. We’ve been learning the traditional, old as time, ‘classic’ ski technique. Using groomed ‘tracks’ in the snow you perform a ‘diagonal stride’ which looks like you’re skiing in mini train tracks.
Our friends are all speeding along using the ‘Skate’ skiing technique. This style, which mimics the motion of ice skating, is a more recent skiing development which has grown in popularity (very successfully if the numbers of people ‘stake’ skiing here are anything to go by) since the 1980s
Although ‘Skate’ skiing is often preferred by those who want to go faster, Jacob seemed to have no trouble keeping up with the group when we left the ski lodge that morning. I know, because I watched them all fade into the distance.
Learning to ‘classic’ Cross Country Ski
But I don’t mind being left alone to chug along slowly. I try to remember the tips we were given by Sue the ski instructor who took us for a lesson back in January. “Keep looking up” she had said in her almost faded British accent. Sue had arrived in Prince George from the U.K in 1973 with the intention of staying for one year. Cross-Country skiing was a big part of why she never returned across the Atlantic.
As I ski I remember Sue calling “Helen” to remind me to get my eyes off my skis and onto the trail. Each time I follow Sue’s advice and raise my eyes up, I’m rewarded with the sight of a twisting trail lined with snowy evergreens. The tracks for ‘classic’ skiing roll out in front of me, keeping me inline and encouraging me to keep going.
What else had Sue told us to do? That was it, “try to raise you back foot and glide along on your front foot”. When you do this correctly, you suddenly perform an effortless and immensely satisfying glide and you get a glimpse of how pleasurable this sport will be once mastered. The path twists around a corner and down a slight hill, I raise my polls, bend my knees and enjoy the speed of descending.
The first break of the morning
A little while later Jacob and I meet our friends (you can meet them properly in this adventure) by the fire pit for tea and hot chocolate. The fire pit overlooks the ‘gravel pit’ (or ‘Rotary Terrain Park’) which is an area with lots of small hills, very popular with kids. We watch their fearless descents as the logs burned slowly and the morning sun beats down through a blue sky, warming cold fingers.
Soon the group is deciding which trail to head to next. After one of them shares an amusing tale about his partner breaking one of her fingers on the ‘Fingers’ trail, off three of them go to enjoy this route. Silently glad my skiing skills are not yet good enough for this trail that endangers digits, Jacob, one of our other friends and I make our way to the start of the ‘Pine Flats’ trail.
Falling for skiing
‘Pine Flats’ has been freshly groomed that morning and, even better, quite a bit of the trail is bathed in sun light. I am soon alone again as the other two are gliding off smoothly, picking up speed. I cannot begrudge Jacob for being so much better than me at this, not when he is enjoying it so much. Besides, snow and ice and cold are his thing, I’m like a duck out of water. Or a lizard out of the heat.
But this lizard is willing to learn, so I try another tip Sue gave us: “stop using the poles and you will learn to balance much faster”. Skiing without the poles, I find I have to work much harder, but also, that the right motion comes easier. It works too: when I use the poles again, but continue pushing off with my back leg with the same amount of force I had to employ without the poles, I glide much more fluidly and faster.
I meet the guys back at the ‘Gravel Pit’ where they both shoot down a hill with no trouble, looking effortlessly cool. I wait until they are gone before choosing a much smaller hill.
I’m cruising down when suddenly I’m going too fast, I can’t steer and I’m going to go into the ditch. What was it Sue had said about a ‘snow plow’ to stop? Why won’t my legs go into that pizza thing? What’s the best way to fall? CRASH! Why does that hurt? It’s snow, surely snow is a soft landing? Oh my thumb hurts!
This is the point at which I decide I’ve earned a second break. I settled down in the snow and get the flask out, amuse myself listening to the families by the fire pit and terrify myself watching the little girl fly down the hill.
West Country Wandering 