Wildflower season in the alpine meadows of Canada is very short lived. Depending on the weather, there is a window of a few weeks to a month, where you can see them in full bloom. On this trip we hit the jackpot.

A good friend and I headed up a remote logging road with my beat up old ford pickup truck. I made jokes on the way about not having a spare tire, to which we both exchanged nervous laughter. We got to the end of the road where we had planned to start our hike and left the truck behind for the night. Already, there were signs of recent bear activity, so we were on high alert. We started along a feint old trail which soon disappeared into nothing. For the next few hours we bushwhacked through the forest. Roughly following our GPS to a point we had picked out, where we would spend the night. Finally we emerged in a meadow that was exploding with the most wildflowers I had ever seen in my life. The rolling hills beneath the mountains were filled with an explosion of color. We hurried to set up camp for the night. Then we had some dehydrated meals after a long day of hiking. Watching the sun set behind the peaks in the distance, to end the day, was enchanting to say the least.

This piece reminds me to take the path less traveled more often. It's easy to take the highway on autopilot through life. I'd much rather live a fulfilled life of adventure taking the side roads and pushing out of my comfort zone.

This image was photographed by Vincent Schnabl.

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