I had to get out of the city. For the last six months almost everything I had seen, heard, smelled or touched was made by humans or altered or managed by us. I needed to reconnect with the planet, to regain perspective on my existence. What better way than to immerse myself in geologic time? I headed for the nearest mountains, in this case the Canadian Rockies, Purcells and Bugaboos.
In a tiny high valley just west of the Continental Divide lies Mistaya Lodge.
Accessible mainly by helicopter, this little piece of paradise is one of my favourite places.
I try to come here at least once a year, and as soon as I arrive I can feel the noise and stench of the city fade from memory. It takes a little longer to let go of my defences and open my eyes to every sight, my ears to every…
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