The Laurentians

Squinty group shot in the sun hut

This weekend, our family joined the Bidlake/Boutets on a retreat to a little farmhouse nestled in the Laurentians.  Erin had proposed the adventure months ago, suggesting a snow-filled vacation might be a lovely way to celebrate all the goodness that winter has to offer around these parts.  We, of course, agreed immediately, and were getting very excited as the date grew nigh.

As the week began, however, things started looking sketchy.  Juniper had come home from school on Monday sick, and progressively got worse as the week wore on.  She was tired, her head hurt, her ear hurt, her throat hurt, she was dizzy and chilled, and her whole body "felt weird".  She watched videos, slept, and tried her best to be upbeat, but missed the entire week of school.

Pyjamaed, fleeced, and wool hatted, yet still chilled

 By Thursday, however, she had started to come out the other side.  She still didn't feel up to school, but she did manage to get dressed, decorate cupcakes, and even went along to the last day of swim lessons.  She didn't get in the pool, of course, but watched Linden and waited anxiously to see if she had graduated to the next level. (She had).

Decorating cupcakes, and looking much healthier

On Friday morning, we took stock, conferred with Erin, and made the executive decision that everyone felt well enough to go, and that as long as we tried hard not to swap potential lingering germs, it was worth the risk.  So we packed up a relatively ridiculous amount of gear and food, and made our way to the land of snow, snow, and more snow.  

The Laurentians are, just generally, a beautiful part of the county.  But the spot where we stayed was truly special.  The house, likely at least a century old, was a perfect, cozy retreat.  A warm wood stove greeted you as you walked into the living room, and an ample kitchen made meal prep and eating no problem for a crew of seven.  There were four bedrooms (and about a kajillion beds), nooks and crannies galore, a whole room filled with board games and kids' books, and pillows and blankets on every lounge-worthy surface.

PJs, a fire, a cozy carpet, and crazy 8s.

Besides the awesome accommodations, the piece of land on which it sits offers endless outdoor entertainment. There is a super steep hill as soon as you step out the door (perfect for sliding), miles of forest with trails for exploring via snowshoes and/or skis, and a "sun hut" to sit, relax and warm up afterwards.  Plus, by some wild stroke of luck, the weather was unbelievably gorgeous.  Warm, sunny, and still.  We took full advantage:

There was always a designated patrol at the bottom of the hill to make sure kids didn't inadvertently scale the huge snow bank and get deposited directly into the road.  It was FAST sliding.

This is not Zack lounging - it is Zack popping his upper body out of a hole someone left when their snowshoe went through the crust.

With snow as deep as you are tall, why not jump off a tree?

Belly sliding - no sled necessary

A colourful collection of snowshoes, ready for adventure

Linden, leading the first snowshoe trip

Linden and Zack by the huge lookout rock (or as Clark insisted on calling it, the "glacial erratic")

Little guy, huge rock

After a long snowshoe hike, in front of a glorious view. Zack didn't feel like joining the snuggly group.

Fruit bar break 

Trudging back up the hill for some even faster sliding on day#2

Blue snowshoes, blue sky, hip 6 year old

Action shot, running through the woods

Getting some one-on-one dad time

An intrepid nature explorer, Linden stops to examine a bit of beech nut husk.  Also, he is unable to hike without a stick in hand.

 Despite all the goodness of the weekend (and trust me, it was bursting with goodness), there were also more than a few challenges.:

1. The fresh air and exhaustively active nature of our days made for some very worn out children. On the way back from our first epic snowshoe hike, for instance, Linden just couldn't hold it together. He needed, with the very essence of his soul, to be the leader of the group, but could barely walk.  I kept trying to convince him that he either needed to choose to walk faster, or to give up his position of trek leader.  He was unwilling to comply with either. Realizing that reasoning with him was futile, I decided to just walk around him and take up the mantle myself.  He LOST. HIS. S%$T. He proceeded to flail on the snow, screaming like a demented creature of the wild, and repeating over and over in a tortured voice "mama BUTT me! It isn't faaaaiiiiirrrrrr!"  Sadly, we had a long way to go yet.  That night, he didn't even make it through supper - he went upstairs, plopped down in bed, and slept for about 14 hours straight.

2.  The snow was deep.  Like, unbelievably deep.  For the most part, this didn't pose a problem -- we had all brought snowshoes, and in the cool of the morning, most of the snow was crusty enough to walk on even without snowshoes.  But as the sun shone, and the day warmed up, things got a little sketchier.  I, in particular, ended up going through more than once, which can start to get scary, especially when sinking up to your knees, or in some cases, past your thigh.  The last straw was on the final hill on the way back down to the farm house.  I had taken off my snowshoes at that point, and thought it wouldn't be a big deal.  Boy was I wrong.  I got about 1/4 of the way down the hill, and sunk almost up to my belly button.  My left boot got completely and utterly stuck, and I couldn't move.  In the end, I had to send the kids for a shovel and a sled.  Clark shovelled me and my boot out, and I sledded back down the hill to safety. Though it sounds ridiculous and hilarious in the retelling, it was not a super pleasant experience at the time (and I had one very cold, wet butt by the time I was rescued!)

3. There are some members of our family who like to push the boundaries between what is fun, and what is fundamentally dangerous when it comes to adventurous activities.  You must assume I'm talking about Linden, right?  You wouldn't be mistaken in your assumptions, but I'm actually referring to the guy Linden has obviously inherited these traits from -- his dad.  So, Clark brought his x-country skis with him, and was thrilled by the conditions.  So thrilled, in fact, that he thought it would be a good idea to go down a steep, tree-lined hill.  I told him this was patently absurd, and that, by no means, was he to attempt it.  We all knew first-hand how fast the snow was, and he was not on down hill skis or telemark skis -- he was on x-country skis.  And this was the first time he'd really been out all season.  Did he listen?  Of course not.  Did he wipe out dramatically?  You betcha.  I did not actually witness the event, as I was (very literally) stuck in the snow.  I did, however, hear the ungodly whoop, followed by... sudden and immediate silence.  He emerged on the other end with a face that appeared to have been mauled by a wild cat, a bloody snow-crust-burned arm, and a wee bit of whiplash.  He was LUCKY.

This picture was fresh after the crash.  He looks much worse in person.

And finally, there is the inevitable post-trip exhaustion and crankiness.  It is impossible to fit in that much constant activity (especially after an extended week of sickness), and not emerge completely spent on the other end.  Also, while Clark and the kids seemed to sleep fine,  I did not sleep well at all while there.  I can just generally be a very bad sleeper for the first night or two in foreign surroundings, but there is the added stupidness of the fact that ear plugs just WILL NOT stay in my ears. So on Sunday evening, after we got home, Juniper and I were, as Clark pointed out, trying to "out-grump" each other, and both succeeding marvelously.   As he described, "it was like a Tara and a mini-Tara trying to out-Tara each other".  I'm pretty certain that is not a compliment.

Juniper writing in the guest book just before we left

But despite the exhaustion, the minor bodily injuries, and the occasional bad attitude, I wouldn't have traded a minute of it.  It was absolutely wonderful, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  We may, in fact, do it again once the seasons change, and we can explore the place again with new eyes.  I bet it is, for instance, resplendent in the fall. Kudos to Erin for having the vision and the follow-through to make it happen!

This week, it is March Break - who knows what craziness will ensue?  Honestly, I'm kind of hoping there won't be all that much.  We are more than a little ready for some peace and quiet, I think. Or most of us, anyway.  Linden is very rarely ready for anything involving peace and quiet of any sort.  But we shall see.  See you next week!