Category: camping

Getting pegged.

~ Lkvy ~ Leave a comment

In addition to skinning my knee, I set a new personal record on Sunday. Yesterday, I managed just 3,756 steps, which is kind of a lot considering how much my knee swelled up on Sunday night. I’d underestimated how much damage my knee took when I went down and have since been splitting my time between icing my knee and hobbling around. Today was a 6,400-limp kinda day that involved getting buns from the supermarket.

Leave it up to me to blog about buns:

Great for sandwiches and burgers? As opposed to what? Knee protection?

Exponentially–and optimistically–speaking, should I continue to improve at this rate, I’ll be ready for another half-marathon by Wednesday.

Realistically, I’ll take Zoée’s suggestion to plunge into the trove of my arts-and-crafts supplies and inch my way towards the completion of my Slovenia trip recap. I last left off at the end of Day 4: the group’s reunion with Fatema in Bovec.

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Feeling salty.

~ Lkvy ~ Leave a comment

The disillusionment persists. Last Thursday, I decided I needed some time off the island. I mashed my overnight gear into my panniers and pumped my legs all the way to Swartz Bay. There, I had seven different destinations to choose from that would take me off Vancouver Island. I’d already decided on Salt Spring Island. Ruckle Park is one of my favourite camping spots, and it’d been several years since I last camped there. In fact, I believe the last time I camped there was with Yann and Ed in 2019.

This time, I was all on my lonesome. The last time I camped alone was… never. That was actually my first time. I didn’t realize until recently that I was an outlier among my friends for never having had that solo camping experience and wanted to change that. (Cocaine and changing a diaper are two other things that most of my friends have done that I haven’t, and I plan on keeping it that way.)

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Return to Gabriola.

~ Lkvy ~ Leave a comment

Welcome to Greg Minnaar’s Tour of Terror. First stop: my shower.

Technically, he’s been making people shit themselves a little since he arrived at the bike shop two years ago. He didn’t have to try very hard either: he’d just stand there motionless, and people would jump. What talent. Apparently, he can also do backflips on a bike.

Last week, a colleague was about to eliminate him for once and all. As I was about to enter the break room, Greg took a nosedive in front of me from behind the doorway, jolting my heart.

“Wait. You’re getting rid of him? May I have him?” I asked as soon as I realized it was just Greg, and he was on his way into the dumpster.

Continue reading “Return to Gabriola.” →

Spring in the Winter

~ Lkvy ~ 2 Comments

On January 19, I woke up at 7am to find the campsite enshrouded in fog so thick I couldn’t see Burger’s or Yann’s tents in the distance. It was much too chilly to leave my tent, so after putting on a fleece jacket and activating a fresh pair of hand warmers to put inside my sleeping bag, I tightened the drawstring around the hood, leaving only my nose poking out. I stayed in my warm cocoon for another two hours before emerging from the tent to find that the fog had dissipated. The boys were up and around, boiling water on camp stoves for their coffee.

“Sleeping Beauty,” remarked Burger.

I’m glad he and Yann didn’t end up scraping my frozen corpse off the tent platform at Montague Harbour Provincial Park. I’d survived my first ever winter camping trip.

Continue reading “Spring in the Winter” →