The Ceremony

Urszula smiles after a speech by Kam’s mother, Teresa.

The First Dance.

To see a full gallery of images from Kamil and Urszula’s Wedding, click on any of the photos or click here.

Jen rests partway up while Nan approaches the crest of a hill on trail La Ouest en route to the réfuge Ernest.

Leaving Toronto on Thursday night we many snowy kilometres driving slowly to beautiful Brockville in the “World Famous Thousand Islands.”

Jen catches a few more minutes of sleep in the motel room on Friday morning while Nan showers.

After a full day of logistics on Friday we skied away from the Accueil Gagnon in the park on Friday afternoon. We were happy to have a nearly full moon on Friday night as we skied the last hour by the light of our headlamps and the moon.

Nan washes pots in the hut.

We enjoyed a good dinner (basmati rice, eggplant and zucchini stir fry, asiago cheese), some nice wine (cabernet sauvignon), a warm hut (with roaring woodstove) and we slept in Saturday morning. Highlights from Saturday include: Pancakes with maple syrup, reading by a roaring woodstove, snowshoeing on the lake, trying to link a few telemark turns in wet, heavy snow.

The three of us take a break on our Saturday afternoon snowshoe.

Le gang.

We left by a different route, and both Jen and Nan were feeling more confident on their skis as we cruised back to the Accueil and the rental car.

Our ski route in (pink highlighter) and out (yellow highlighter).

Getting changed and packing up, it was back to Ottawa for an expensive and generally lackluster dinner (my fault) at a restaurant that I only barely managed to track down after several wrong-exit misadventures on the 417 .

Nan and David celebrate with sparklers.

It was a perfect way to celebrate my birthday, and I was lucky to share it with these kids. Jen made me birthday brownies, they sang me the birthday song, and they even brought sparklers.

Jen hearts davie.

Before the ceremony, Johan watches as Erik helps Frederick adjust his corsage.

Rochelle prepares for the ceremony

Johan cuts a rug on the dance floor.

Check out some of the photos I made at the Toronto Paddlefest, June 14, 2008.

The underwater results (at Harbourfront in Lake Ontario) have been… interesting.

Technically, one might argue that the photos are entirely incomprehensible, but I would point out that technically the exposure has been quite exemplary.

My Nikonos doesn’t have an internal light meter, and in lieu of the waterproof external light meter I don’t have, I’ve been using my own personal, built-in, waterproof, eyeballs (in conjunction with some educated guesswork). Granted: I was using chromogenic black and white neg film, and my latitude was huge, but I think my choices of exposure have, in fact, been rather decent.

My next plan is colour slide film.

Let’s see what colour the lake is under there, and let’s see what kind of precise intuition all that photo school has instilled in me where light metering is concerned.

(Please excuse all the dust on these contact scans.)

My Latin is a bit rusty, but my Pig Latin is a little more honed.

It’s a new year, and I’ve spent the past month visiting friends family and other folks across the western-more part of Southern Canada.

• Thunder Bay, ON
• Winnipeg, MB
• Vancouver, BC
• Chilliwack, BC
• Victoria, BC
• Toronto, ON (East End)
• Stratford, ON
• Parry Sound, ON
• Toronto, ON

There has been much train travel. (Rest assured that I continued the tradition of photographing myself in bathroom mirrors both on- and off-train.) There has been snowshoeing, skiing, skating, saunaing, cycling, swimming, and sandwiches. There has been visiting with family. There has been visiting with friends. There has been breaking-a-hole-in-the-ice-on-Georgian-Bay and jumping into the lake.

Throughout it all, there have been pictures; rail-borne and snowshoe-shod, Manitoban and British Columbian, of prairie and of Cambrian Shield. Please find in the three previous posts a brief collection thereof.

Happy New Year

Alberta, Christmas Eve.

If the train was great and the snow was the bonus, it was certainly the people who made the trip such a great visit.

It was great to see family, good friends and meet some new folks along the way.

Yeah for people.

Playing Scrabble on the train with (left to right) Thomas, Alex, Jocelan (absent: Brie).

In Chilliwack on a pre-Christmas Christmas morning: The Whole Family.
Back Row: Thomas Dickau, Kathleen Parsons, Nancy Howden, Alex Howden, John Presseau (crouching), Devon Presseau, Bob Raffle Middle Row: Bob Parsons, Emily Parsons, Cougar (Dan) Leavens, LinLi holding Thaydn Presseau, Shirley Raffle, David Parsons (standing) Front Row: Doug Presseau, Zachary Presseau, Jesse Howden, Reece Howden, Barb Presseau Absent: Jenn Mino

In Chilliwack: swordsman Jesse Howden duels Alex Howden while Zachary Presseau goes corps à corps.

In Vancouver: Johan Genberg on guitar.

On the shores of Georgian Bay: Ryan Newell cooking Arctic Char.

Hiking in to Kim’s cottage over water, sled in tow: Fennel (Melanie) Willson.

If the train was great, the snow was an added bonus.

I love the snow, I love the cold, and I love talking about the temperature when it is cold.

For instance:
-15ºC
-8ºC
-20ºC

and (not as exciting):
2ºC

Right now in Toronto we have had a few days of the not-as-exciting-to-talk-about-but-still-talked-about temperatures of 12ºC, 13ºC and now (at least it’s dropping) 4ºC. I like it when it’s cold in the winter time, because it’s supposed to be cold in the winter time.

Packing up after New Year’s on Georgian Bay; Jen Preston, Ryan Newell (walking). Jan 2, 2008.

I like the snow. Makes things happy and exciting.

Travelling west, the country was snowy everywhere between Toronto and sunrise on the train in British Columbia after the Rockies. There it was just wet.

The consolation to this being that, in Vancouver, you can reach the snow by increasing your altitude, as my Dad and I did with friends Johan and Rochelle.

Snowshoeing on Mt. Seymour in Vancouver; (front to rear:) Rochelle Gause, Johan Genberg, Bob Parsons.

The New Year’s Wake-Up Call:

I went swimming with Kim and Dan in Georgian Bay on New Year’s Day. This required a certain amount of preparation.

Dan and I started breaking ice for “the hot tub” on New Year’s Eve, in the dark, and we were clear by 2pm on the 1st. (We did have some help and take some breaks.)

Jen Preston, Yours Truly and Dan Guay excavating a hole in the ice on Georgian Bay. Jan 1, 2008

Dan and I clearing the last bits of floating ice.

We were few who actually dipped, but we were not unwitnessed; there were three or four photographers documenting events (myself included) as well as eight other humans observing and three dogs who watched somewhat incomprehendingly.

My special polar dip outfit with accidental toque. Thank you Wade Lifton.

Dan’s Cannonball. (Dan wins full marks from this judge for diving form. An iconic cannonball.)

Kim’s scream.

It was breathtakingly wonderful.

Between Toronto, Ontario (43º 38′ 38″N latitude; my southernmost point of travel), Victoria, British Columbia (123º 20′ 60″ W longitude; my westernmost point), some undetermined northernmost point on that section of track betwixt Bickerdike/Edson, Alberta (around 53º 34′ N latitude) and Edmonton, Alberta (at 53º 35′ latitude) and MacTier, Ontario (79º 46′ W; my eastern-most point of travel), I travelled by all modes of vehicle.

Frozen Lakes near Jasper, Alberta; Christmas Eve.

By Foot; Subway; City Bus (TTC); Airplane; Automobile; Coach Bus (Greyhound); Passenger Train; Ferry; Commuter Train (GO Transit); and Ski.
(Not included in the above list are: Streetcar, Snow Shoe, Toboggan and Bicycle, because they were only used for recreational and/or within-municipality trips during that period. All other modes (skiing included) were used as an essential and/or primary mode of transport between significant destinations — i.e. between towns.)

The one mode of travel which far surpassed the others in terms of actual hours spent en route, was the train.

Tunnel; Alberta.

I have taken many East to West by-land journeys on Highway 1, but this was my first experience doing the same by rail. I am sure it seems clear to the reader, but it was a real shock to me: The train is not the bus.

Taking photos in the Dome Car near Jasper, Alberta.

By this I mean that while my experience of travelling by coach has generally been a quiet, retreat-like experience, with scarcely a word said either to quiet compeers or to prarie postcard purveyor, my trip by train was shared and social. Scrabble with sojourning strangers and sing-alongs to acoustic guitar in the dome car — the time was characterized by extroversion and not introspection (though there was certainly some quiet time for that, particularly on the return trip).

Sudbury, Ontario.

I was thrilled to see hawks and bald eagles, a fox, many deer, herds of elk, mountain sheep and kilometre upon kilometre of not-the-side-of-a-highway. There are places where the tracks do follow the highway (or rather, the highway follows the tracks) but there are more occasions where the tracks follow the river, or the canyon, bringing one’s eyes to places otherwise unseen. Contrary to travel by air, travel by rail is a chance to embrace the journey rather than anticipate its completion.

Nightfall; Christmas Eve. (A view of one dome car from another.)

I commend the train to you as the alternative to air travel.
More expensive than the bus, but –to me shockingly– different than the bus.