Perpetual Motion

The springtime transformation of tiny maple buds to full-leaf canopy is dramatic here on the edge of the bay. It seems to happen overnight—although of course it doesn’t. Before the forest explodes, there are whispers of warning: Trout lilies emerge through the matted, decayed leaves, and wild leeks blanket the floor as far as the eye can see.

I find the reawakening jarring. Every year, without fail, I’m caught by surprise at the sharp contrast between our winter and summer lives. The first sweltering day in May finds us on the sidewalk, chatting with neighbours, stepping into the quiet street to lean through the window of a friend’s stopped car. Our shuttered and isolated winter lives are full again, alive with the company of our community.

Last spring, as front-yard conversations drifted to adventures, we inevitably landed on a recurring topic: “Have you seen those Trip Longer people?” “Ya, I’ve been following them since they were in Fernie!” “Me, too! I found their account when they dodged that tornado on the Prairies!”

Indeed these two adventurers, sharing their daily updates on social media at @trip.longer, were headlining our collective screens and minds. Pedalling their gravel bikes across the continent via rail trails, singletrack and dirt lanes from the Pacific to the Atlantic, Ali Becker and Mat Leblanc were the inaugural riders of the Great Northern Bikepacking Route, and the videos and images they posted along the way created one of the most wholesome feeds this side of baby panda reels.

Ali and Mat shared behind-the-scenes info and minute details for would-be bikepackers and the simply curious: checklists for packing, tips on gear, a never-ending display of the thousands of calories they managed to pack in each day. But mostly they documented their journey. From crumbling snowpack in the Rockies through endless canola fields, we saw so much of this country through them—at a pace that encouraged us to slow down and take in every second.

But it may be the kindness of strangers and new friends along the route that kept us so rapt. Followers offered their backyards and guest beds, they welcomed Ali and Mat on the edge of town with meals and encouraging cheers, they shared local tips and secrets, connected the would-be stranded bikers with friends of friends who had just the bike part they needed.

There was something about their story that begged you to be a part of it, encouraged you to share your knowledge, your time, your world-famous cookies.

Part of what drew me to Ali and Mat’s experience was their embodiment of what it means to be a Mountain Lifer. It’s about adventure, about exploring and protecting our home. Creating and embracing community, sharing inspiring stories and endless stoke. Encouraging friends to step past the sidewalk and into the forest, find a new trail, support an upstart local business, lace up for the annual charity run.

Stories and community. It’s what it’s all about.

The Trip Longer plot recently experienced a twist: With a positive, forward-looking post, Ali and Mat announced they were parting ways, choosing to follow their own paths toward new adventures. With indomitable smiles, their post expressed an appreciation for their time together and shared hopes for one another’s future. Their example is a lesson in coping graciously with change—that jarring and often unsettling beast that, with support and encouragement, can in the end be embraceable. Just like (I’m pretty sure, but have you tried it?) baby pandas. – Kristin Schnelten

FIN D YOURSELFINNATURE. Just a few minutes from Collingwood in one of Canada’s18 UNESCO biosphere reserves, are 370 unspoiled acres of mature hardwoodforest Weare here,high atopthe NiagaraEscarpment, wherean incrediblecollectionof experiencesandmemories waitsforyou, andforevery memberofyourfamily. ABreathtakingWorldofAdventureinNature!