Fernie: A Mountain Nest and a Morning Lesson

After five full days on the road and over 4000 kilometers behind us, we’ve landed in Fernie, BC—a mountain town wrapped in snow-capped peaks and pure magic. We're nestled in a beautiful RV resort, and I honestly don’t know if it's the view, the fresh air, or the space to run, but the girls have declared this “the best experience of their lives” about ten times already.

Last night, we hopped on our bikes and pedaled to the community aquatic center—our third local pool since leaving Sutton. It’s become a bit of an unofficial tradition: every town we land in, we find the pool, stretch our legs, and jump into something warm and chlorinated. There’s something grounding about it—a splash of routine in the midst of all this wild freedom.

We biked back after sunset, the mountains silhouetted against a soft indigo sky. A nearly full moon was rising behind the peaks, casting a silver glow on the road. I was really happy Simon had thought to bring lights for the bikes—it made the ride feel safe, and even kind of magical, like we were floating through the night on our own little moonlit adventure.

This morning, though, we hit a snag. The girls woke up cranky, and the mood was off. One of our colleagues back home had once told us: “Keep everyone fed on time and communicate the plan. Unmet expectations are the root of a lot of meltdowns.” We remembered this golden advice just in time.

We made French toast—thick slices golden from the pan—and poured over the very best maple syrup, straight from my parents' farm. There was something extra special in every bite: the taste of home, the comfort of tradition, and a reminder that love travels well.

And now, we're off to the mountain to put our Epic Passes to use for the first time. The girls are both excited and a little scared—it’s their first time seeing mountains this big, and honestly, they’re kind of intimidating. But there’s a quiet bravery in them, a willingness to try, to trust, and to grow.

We’ll take it one run at a time, with plenty of snacks, hugs, and warm cocoa at the end of the day.

And yes—there’s ice cream waiting for them at the finish line. Because courage deserves to be celebrated, and childhood should taste like adventure (with sprinkles on top).

These little moments—where things wobble, then reset—are teaching us a lot. About rhythm. About staying present. About how the road trip is less about the destination and more about finding harmony in motion.