I’m not a habitual smoker, but on expeditions I do enjoy the occasional pipe. There’s a great heritage involved, a kinship with the voyageurs, not to mention the smoke keeps the bugs away from your face. In this photo we were on the Gaspe peninsula in Quebec, an arm of land that juts out into the Atlantic ocean. We had stepped out of the canoes for a mid-morning snack. It was one of those moments on the trail where the birds were singing, the warm sun was shining and all was right with the world. Or at least those things that were not right were so far away they seemed to not exist. In our little world, floating down a crystal-clear mountain stream, surrounded by good friends, it was one of life’s perfect moments. Worth more to me than all the money on Wall street.
Pipes On The Trail
Next: Smudge Pot