This year, no snowmobile. If we want to discover new landscapes, it is with our feet.
To mark and celebrate my 50th birthday, we are leaving with 3 pulkas and Stone the dog, on foot or on skis, to a nearby bay.
The preparations are not like those from the previous years camping weekends, when the qamutiq could be filled up without worrying about weight! Eric and I are pulling a pulka each, Léonie is driving Stone the dog and sometimes helping him to pull his sledge, the heaviest, while Aurore plays the cheerleader in front, delighted with our little outfit. At the end of Arctic Bay's bay, the wind settles and swells behind our back, blowing the snow and pushing us forward! Several snowmobiles pass us then Tom with his dog sled. We discover them gathered in a small bay of the coast, sharing a tea according to the custom on Sunday evenings on the sea ice. But we are in quarantine, so we only exchange some greetings from far and continue. After 3 hours of walking we cross the hummocks and the wind dies slowly to let us set up the tent on an idyllic bank.
The next day, walks and idleness. We happily live again the feeling of freedom offered by these wild camps and in the evening, Léonie surprises us with her culinary prowess well hidden in the cooler (which is used to avoid freezing) to celebrate my half century!