Val and I had took a flyer out to Miquelon Lake Provincial
Park with our fat bikes on the Thanksgiving Monday with two reconnaissance
objectives in mind: One, we wanted to scope out the 20-km of cross-country ski
trails there, which are open year-round to cyclists (one of the few skiing
facilities in the Edmonton area that doesn’t expressly forbid fat bikes in the
winter). And two, we were keen to check out the network of crooked gravel roads
that run through and around the park. Plus Miquelon is less than an hour’s
drive south-east of Edmonton and I hadn’t been there in 20 years. A visit was
long overdue.
I’d forgotten just how big and well-equipped the campground
is at Miquelon--oodles of campsites, group areas, even a few glamping units.
Part of the campground is actually open year-round, and we saw a surprising
number of people camped out in their recreational vehicles despite the chilly weather.
Who camps in October in Alberta? Were these folks snowbirds holding out as long
as possible before embarking on the great migration south?
Even the names of the nordic trails reflect the feathery
theme. The Grouse Loop and Chickadee circuit are pretty much what you’d
expect—narrow double-track of mostly rolling, punchy ups and dippy downs
through aspen forest. It wouldn’t be
easy rolling on a fat bike in the snow, and depending on how it’s
track-groomed, it could be a tight fit for cyclists and skiiers sharing the
trail. But I think these trails are worth a winter visit.
The real surprise of Miquelon, though, was the gravel. As I was planning our flight path, my eye was
drawn to the squiggly roads on the park map. From these, we pieced together a
30-km circuit of lovely gravel roads, with a little trail bushwhacking mixed
in, just for fun. Almost all of this route was along twisty, narrow gravel
roads, either through boreal forest or open farmland.
My favorite road, however, was a lightly used grassy roadway
or a kind of "green track," as the English would have called it a
hundred years ago, along the top of the park. Technically, this was probably
(once) an access road to the park, but it was now blocked off by a gate (hence
our bushwhacking detour). As a result, this “road” hadn't seen much vehicle
traffic in recent years. In fact, the track was mostly grass covered and felt
like a super-wide trail. Riding this on a fat bike was far more fun than
huffing and puffing our way around the Chickadee Loop--the scale of the twists
and hills was more gradual, better suited to two-wheel travel. Our "green
track" only lasted a few kilometres before hooking up with a regular
gravel lane, but it was long enough to provide a small thrill.
As a result of our reconnaissance, I’ve decided to declare
Miquelon an IFBA—Important Fat Bike Area.
We’ll return some day, and perhaps surprise some avid birders on the
prowl for phalaropes in the bulrushes. It could be their lucky day. A couple of coots on fat bikes? Check that off the life list.
Reading this makes me want to check out Miquelon for skiing or walking. Also, years from now, I plan on being a birder. I'll keep it on my list for that adventure too.
ReplyDeleteI rode here early this spring to find out they charge full rates despite not providing any services including water. The trip was an overnighter to test out a new touring setup, so needless to say, lack of water was problematic!
ReplyDeleteSo, Mark, were you camping at the campground and there was no water? That's crazy. What did you do?
DeleteI had enough water to make it until morning. The visitor shop should have been open according to their sign, but it was closed. I ended up finding a working hose bib on the golf clubhouse. It worked despite some concerning floaties!
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