December in the Mini-apple

As the holiday tune says, "it's the most wonderful time of the year. " Cold enough for snow but not so cold that you have to don a space suit (we call that January). We started (and ended, actually) the week with our "citizen walk," picking up meats, coffee, cheese (mmmm, Ros) and other sundries from our favorite shops, and en route saw some migrating Scaup mixed in with the Canada geese (aka the usual suspects) on the Mississippi.

Winter also means lots of activities, indoors and out. It had been a couple of years since we saw a Timberwolves game, and we were hoping to catch a rare victory against the hapless Sixers. As it turns out, we had centre court tickets for what has since been anointed "worst NBA game ever," which I suppose is a superlative, of sorts.

Although there aren't a lot of trails open yet, Highland Lake Park in Bloomington makes its own snow, so we got to strap on the boards for the first time this winter, and in the process rediscover some leg muscles we hadn't used since March.

Of course, no Minneapolis December would be complete without some form of Holidazzle-related activity. We took a couple of runs at the Bavarian-style Holiday Market whenever we needed a cider and candied nut fix.

One oft-neglected winter gem in the MN Zoo, which not only has a great Tropical House, but also the Northern Trail, whose denizens hail from semi-polar regions and hence are much more active this time of year.

Early winter also is a great time to visit museums and dine with friends (okay, really any time of year is good for this, but I am trying to develop a theme here). We caught the Italian Style exhibit at MIA with friends Doug and Linnea, followed by dinner at Icehouse, where Matt Bickford's culinary skill and bonhomie always shines.

We followed dinner with yet more arts, a reception at the Pryor Kolman gallery, and followed up with

PK and Jodi on Sunday for the British Arrows Awards at the Walker. We snuck into the exhibit hall afterwards to see a short by Chris Larson, a St Paul artist featured in this year's Whitney Biennial. We moved on to dinner at the Third Bird on Loring Park and finished with sublime cocktails at Eat Street Social. 

November in New York

Hard to believe it's already time for our annual late fall pilgrimage to NYC. It seems as though it was a cold week everywhere. To be a little closer to the theatre district we stayed in the garment district, but next time will likely stay in Chelsea, as the High Line now extends all the way up to 34th.

View of the Hudson from our window -- 34th and 8th

The show, "A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder," lived up to the recommendation from friends Alex and David, and we are still singing (in a sinister D'ysquith accent) "I don't understand the poor."

We saw some mammoth and quite different works by Murikami and Twombly, at The Gogosian and Morgan, respectively. In between, there was a gem of a Picasso exhibit at the Pace, highlighting the late works inspired by his relationship with Jaqueline Roque.

Takashi Murakami at the Gagosian

In between, of course, there was a bit of shopping, which meant riding the old wooden escalators in the midtown Macy's.

Last wooden elevators in NYC

Oh yeah, I almost forgot that we also went to the Met, where highlights included Thomas Hart Benton's "America Today" mural (continuing the theme of massive works), El Greco and Cubism exhibits and a replica of the living room from the The Frank Lloyd Wright designed Little house in Wayzata. The Madame Cezanne exhibit was an interesting, if somewhat more dour, take on the marital relationship than the Picasso exhibit.

The ornate Morgan Library

The more you travel, the more connected experiences become. For example, it was just a month ago in Henderson, KY, that we first saw examples of Audobon's elephant folios, the giant first editions of his  iconic Birds of America paintings. As we were strolling on Madison we stepped into a small gallery that was preparing to auction off single pages for $10,000-60,000 each!

"Breaking Away" to Southern Indiana

I am not certain if it was our original intent to extend Fall into a two month affair, but between early fall travels northward to the current trip, we have managed to do so. Beyond fall color, there were several other good reasons to visit southern Indiana. First, it offered a chance for Kristen to visit her alma mater, Indiana University. Second, it was an opportunity to catch up with friends Julie and Jason.

Bloomington's IU campus has long been known for its beautiful limestone buildings and leafy quads, but the city itself is also quite attractive, with a lovely town square and the b-line making it a quaint, walkable downtown. We especially enjoyed visits to the Runcible Spoon, Farm Bloomington (biscuits to die for) and Upland Brewing.

We headed out to Brown County State Park to see the fall color in all its glory (trail #5 is a must do) and to meet some beautiful old growth trees, including the tulip tree (Indiana's state tree), sycamore, yellowwood, beech and shagbark hickory.

This theme was continued a bit farther south at the pioneer mothers memorial forest, the lone remnant of true "old growth" forest in the state (and, where we had a feline trail companion whom we dubbed "paw paw.")

We spent the final two days visiting our friend Julie and Jason in Evansville, and they graciously showed us the local sights, including charming Newberg and the impressive Audobon state park in Henderson, KY.

Fall in the Canadian Rockies

As indicated in the previous post, we hadn't quite gotten the Canadian Rockies out of our system after a week at Jasper, so back again we went--this time to Banff, lake Louise, Kootenay, Yoho and Assiniboine.

Johnston Falls

We flew into Calgary and spent a night in Canmore at the Paintbox Inn. Canmore is a Nordic skiing Mecca, so don't be surprised if you see a winter post from here.

Banff is a fairly typical mountain resort town in many ways, but it has a nice museum, the Whyte, and also the adjacent library had a fun puppet exhibit. It is also the home of Canada's first national park area, Cave and Basin, which is home to the Banff spring snail and many bitterns (not pictured).

Cave and Basin

There are several advantages to traveling in fall. First off, the crowds are a lot smaller, and the weather is cool but not yet cold. Also, the larches and aspens turning yellow adds color to the mountains.

Wapta Falls

Although the temperatures remained moderate, only 2 of the 5 hiking days were without rain. Getting a little wet was a small price to pay for having the trails to ourselves.

Plain of Six Glaciers

It would be hard to name a highlight, but our early morning sojourn up to the Plain of Six Glaciers with a return through the Big Beehive and Lake Agnes certainly makes the short list for best day hikes, especially when you throw in a couple of mountain goats.

Mountain Goats

Lake Agnes

The denouement hike in the Sunshine Valley was wet, windy, moody and without another person in sight--in other words, perfect. We even found a single wild strawberry growing on the trail!

The Lost 40

Jasper National Park

Over the years, we have explored the U.S. Rockies quite a lot: from Colorado’s Front Range, up through the Bighorns and into the Beartooth Range (and that’s not even counting the Wasach and Sangre de Christo). We have even explored the Mexican Nevadas. But we have never been to the iconic Canadian Rockies. Well, we have chosen to remedy that through a couple of trips, the first of which has taken us to Jasper National Park.

We flew into Edmonton, which has a very walkable CBD, a cool art museum and a city hall with lots of public spaces (including fountains in which one is encouraged to play). We took a walk (and when that became too hot), a Segway tour along the The Saskatchawan River, which runs through the city.

The following day we were off to Jasper, and within a minute of entering the park gates, we saw a couple of black bear cubs and mother scuttling across the road. A few minutes later, we came across a big elk buck lounging roadside, and knew then that this trip would be something special.

Elk Grazing Roadside

We spent the next 3 days hiking until hunger and fatigue brought us back into town for a meal and a lie down. We started with a little bit of a(l)ttitude, taking the first Jasper SkyTram up and finishing the lung-busting scramble to Whistler’s Summit (2465m, and first up!). Later, we hiked the Tonquin Valley trail along Portal Creek, with lovely intact evergreen forest and lots of gloden-crowned kinglets to keep us company. To round things off, we swung by the Athabaska Falls (and met some spruce grouse along the way). 

Atop Mt. Whistler

Athabasca Falls

Outlet of Athabasca Falls

We were up before dawn the next day, which allowed us to see the caribou moving across the highway out of town and back into the mountains, and also to see rare black swifts feeding in the early light above Maligne Canyon. We were the first to Angel Glacier that morning, and watched as a small chunk fell off (a sad reminder, really, of a natural world in retreat). Smoke from the massive wildfires burning in British Columbia lingered in the still dry air, casting a haze over the mountains. Undaunted, we drove down the Icefields Parkway to the Columbia Icefield, where we were the first onto the Glacier Skywalk, an amazing glass-bottomed cantilever platform jutting out over the canyon below. We rounded back to Mt. Edith Cavell to finish the day with a strenuous hike up through Cavell Meadows to the summit lookout (2288m), which put us eye-level with the glacier we had seen as the sun rose that morning. 

Dawn Caribou Crossing

Richard on Skywalk

Columbia Icefields

Angel Glacier

Top of Cavell Meadows, Angel Glacier in Background

The last full day brought moody weather and cooler temperatures, and was book-ended by admittedly touristy but actual “must do” visits to Lake Maligne (which was postcard still and beautiful at sunrise) and Maligne Canyon, which we had to ourselves on account of a late afternoon rain shower. The middle of the day was devoted to exploring Mt Robson Provincial Park, which is on Western slope of the divide. This side proved much more lush and, for lack of a better term, “BC-like.” We stopped somewhat randomly at Yellowhead Lake to stretch our legs after getting caught in construction traffic outside of Jasper, and just as we were turning to leave, we heard a loon call out and so did some bushwhacking along the lake shore trying to find it. Although we never found the loon, the experience of wandering off trail for a couple of hours was an unexpected highlight of the trip, as was picking blueberries and salmonberries as we walked along the gorge below nearby Overlander Falls.

Lake Maligne

Overlook Falls at Mt. Robson Provincial Park

Summer fun in the mini apple

getting kissy on the Stone Arch bridge

Richard, Alain, Kristen, Rosanna, Linnea and Doug taking the Segway tour

reading at home

having a "P&E as a salad" at B'wiched

taking a Nice Ride to the Walker

getting a Pretzel as big as your head in Nordeaest

Visting Stillwater for "Log jam days"

introducing Alain to malted shakes and other American culinary delights

Iceland 2014

Our 2500 kilometre odyssey began easily enough, landing in Reykjavik and hitting the road, this time  northward to Lake Myvatn and the Westfjords. This is where our bird blog started five years (and 977 birds) ago, during our first trip to Iceland, which took us along the south coast. It was fittingly serendipitous, therefore, that our first "stop" happened to be a great little roadside wetland sanctuary outside Hvammstangi (there was even a spotting scope set up inside the blind). 

the first of many birding stops

The driving began in earnest as we detoured northward over the Trollaskagi peninsula--the first of many cliff-hugging cliff roads and one lane tunnels-- to Siglufjordur.

Siglufjordur 

Finally, we arrived at lake Myvatn, with ducks by the thousands and innumerable sand flies. Because of a mechanics strike, we lost a day at Myvatn, but hope to come back for winter skiing, northern lights and thermal pool bathing.

Myvatn

We spent the next night in Akureyri,  the "capitol of the north", with its lovely high street, to catch our breath (and dine on whale and guillemot), before the long drive back across the Trollaskagi high county, stopping only briefly in scenic Husavik for coffee (and rhubarb pie . . . lots of rhubarb in Iceland).

dramatic roadside rock formations

Husavik is a prototypical example of the impossibly scenic coastal Icelandic town, with hills covered in purple lupine, which smells like lavender mixed with eucalyptus. In the quaint harbour, eider float lazily among the brightly painted fishing boats. Just outside town, there is a hot spring and some old wooden fish drying racks.

The hills behind Husavik, covered with lupine

Hut and fish drying racks outside Husavik

Husavik Harbor

 Then it was onward into the dramatic Westfiords and to Isafjordur for a couple of days.

coastline scene along the Fjords

Trollaskagi high county

The following morning, we explored the nearby Seljalandsdalur valley and Valagil waterfall, then topped it off with a steep climb up Naustahvilft, literally the "troll's chair", overlooking Isafjordur. This effort earned us a brilliant lunch of salt cod and lamb (along with rhubarb, a culinary theme of sorts here). 

Kristen signs the trampers' log at Seljalandsdalur

Richard looking minuscule at Valagil

up and up to the seat of the Troll's chair

Naustahvilft, overlooking Isafjordur.

As much as we craved a nap, we had scheduled a tour out to Vigur ("spear") island to see a puffin and guillemot colony, and to be attacked by swarms of nesting arctic terns.

Vigur Island, where terns rain terror from above

By this time, driving in and out of fjords and over mountain passes on one lane roads had lost some of its allure. A well made macchiato at Ratreskfjordur gave us enough resolve to make in on to Latrabjarg, the westernmost point of Europe. The stunning sea cliffs, inhabited by millions of birds, stretch for miles. 

Latrabjarg

Luckily, there was helpful signage on how not to fall off the edge.

cheaper than a guard rail

We took the last ferry across Breidafjordur, stopping briefly at Flatey Island en route to Stykkisholmur, the final stop in the 'impossibly charming Icelandic towns' tour.

Flatey Island

Stykkisholmur was our gateway the following morning to the peninsula and Snaefellsjokull, the glacial mountain featured in both Haldor Laxness' novel Under the Glacier and Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth.

Snaefellsjokull, in a rare unclouded moment, seen from Flatey

Before heading back to Reykjavik, we took a brief boat tour through the bay, with its unique ecosystem of coastal islands, spotting our first a sea eagle and dining on raw kina and scallops pulled directly from the water.

a basalt island in Breidafjordur Bay

On our final day (well, since the sun never set, it was all really just one day), we took a dramatic flight over the only place on Earth that a tectonic plate crosses land (as if we needed another reminder of the forces that shaped this dramatic landscape).