45 Years Outside: The Outdoor Memories That Shaped Us
For 45 years, explore has celebrated the people, places and moments that make a life outdoors so meaningful. To mark our 45th anniversary, we invited our readers, contributors and community to share an outdoor memory they’ll never forget.
Since 1981, we’ve shared the best Canadian adventures, championed conservation, inspired new beginnings and connected readers with the wild landscapes, wildlife and people that define our country, from the mountains to the prairies and coast-to-coast-to-coast. Through over 200 individual print issues, plus a completely unique online magazine, social media, podcast and more, we have been shaped by passionate writers, photographers, editors and readers who believe that spending time outdoors in natures enriches our lives. As we look back with gratitude, we’re equally excited for the adventures still waiting beyond the next trail, paddle stroke and mountain pass. Here’s to 45 incredible years of exploration—and to many more still to come.
Thank you for being here, with us. Explore Magazine
The sun had set hours earlier, and deep into Nunavik’s Parc national Kuururjuaq, the darkness was now absolute. Inside the yurt, it was smoky and steamy—a plate of fresh ptarmigan wings was being passed around by my gracious Inuit hosts. Later, we set out on our most ambitious objective of the five-day trip: a 500-vertical-metre trek to the summit of a nearby peak, the path a mix of snow, ice and arrow-sharp rocks. At the top, we revelled in our accomplishment. The view was immense. We stood at the border of Quebec and Labrador, agog at a vista over the Koroc River valley that stretched all the way to the Arctic Ocean beyond the horizon. I was overwhelmed with immense privilege—to be here, welcomed by the stewards of this land, absorbing a view more exclusive than the summit of Everest. (Location: Nunavik)
Submitted by: David Webb, President & Publisher
My favourite outdoor moment is, of course, with my dad. Growing up, my dad took our family on camping trips, helped me catch my first fish, showed me how to put up a tent and pointed out every mountain peak on road trips in the Rockies. When I was around 12 years old, he taught me how to ski, though I switched to snowboarding in my teens. On one of our Jasper trips, I proved to him I could carve at Marmot Basin—so he agreed to buy me my own snowboard. That was over 14 years ago; my dad is no longer with us, but the snowboard he bought me still is. I’ll keep it—and the memory—forever.
Submitted by: Alison Karlene Hodgins, Editor
You really can’t beat a mountain sunset of this caliber. We caught this view at the peak of Big White during our annual family snowboarding trip this year. I’ve never seen a sky like this. I enjoyed a drink after a full day of riding and just took in the view with my absolute favorite people. We’ve been going on family trips for years, but this one was hands-down the most unforgettable and best family trip yet.
Submitted by: Adrianna Szarek, Business Development Manager
An annual tradition I’ve never missed is the scenic walk at West Hawk Lake, Manitoba—a place that has become one of my favourite outdoor memories year after year. The short but challenging trail rewards you with a spectacular view of the lake, where the smell of pine, the sound of wind through the trees, the call of birds and the fresh breeze off the water always bring me back to myself. It’s a place I return to when I need to reflect, reset and feel connected to something bigger. This spot holds a special place in my heart, and the tradition has now been passed down through several generations.
Submitted by: Ben Hopper, National Sales Manager
My favourite outdoor memory was completing my first full marathon in June 2025. I remember hearing the roar of the crowd as I approached the finish line. The pain I’d been feeling for 42 kilometres started to disappear as it was replaced by adrenaline and excitement. It remains one of my most memorable outdoor experiences because it showed me that some of life’s most rewarding moments happen outside your comfort zone.
Submitted by: Devin Cox, Finance Manager
Some of my absolute favourite memories are the times spent at the cabin, surrounded by family, close friends and furry friends. There is nothing quite like the feeling of completely unplugging to watch the sunset paint the sky, all while listening to the soothing, natural sounds of the woods around us. Those slow, peaceful moments together always manage to ground me and keep me coming back for more.
Submitted by: Weston Liski, Customer Service
Being with my family, outdoors, is always a blast. But this particular memory is of my last road trip to Calgary from Vancouver before I moved to Ontario. Our Calgary road trips were a quintessential Rashid family adventure. I’ve grown up watching the gorgeous mountain views sweep by as we drove to my uncle’s house. During this particular trip, we savoured every moment, stopped at every viewpoint and hiked up to this beautiful view of Moraine Lake. We were the only ones there, and it felt especially memorable knowing we were all together.
Submitted by: Dania Rashid, Editorial Assistant
One of my favourite outdoor Canadian memories is this trip to the lake with my siblings! We live in different cities and we were all able to make it to the cottage. The sunset was so beautiful dropping over the water; it was so calm and peaceful watching from the dock. It’s not common for us to be together like this, so it was such a special moment.
Submitted by: Carling Liski, Head of Marketing and Strategic Growth
My favorite outdoor moment has to be hiking the Iceline Trail in Yoho National Park. The trail wastes no time pulling you above the tree line, and once it does, the mountains open up around you in a way that stops you mid-step. The wildlife, the peaks, the sheer scale of it all—spectacular doesn’t quite cover it. But what made this hike truly unforgettable was Takakkaw Falls. It never left your line of sight. Around every bend, across every ridge, there it was—all 1,224 feet of it, plunging with the kind of raw, relentless energy that commands your attention whether you want to give it or not. Canada’s second-highest waterfall, and it earns that title every single step of the way.
Submitted by: Rob Hubick, Media Sales Specialist – Atlantic
“Are those people?” I remember asking our Yukon hiking guide, squinting toward two distant figures near the end of the trail. My lungs burned from the crisp northern air, and my legs trembled after nearly 20 kilometres of hiking through the untouched wilderness. The guide smiled before quietly replying, “No… those are grizzlies.” As my eyes adjusted, the figures came into focus. Two massive grizzly bears were calmly foraging in the distance. In that moment, I realized I was standing in the home of one of nature’s most powerful and magnificent animals. There were no fences, no viewing platforms and no guarantees of safety. Just us, the mountains and two wild bears living exactly as they had for thousands of years. It reminded me that true wilderness still exists, and that sometimes the greatest privilege is not being the centre of the story, but simply witnessing the beauty of the natural world on its own terms.
Submitted by: Tavis Gilmore, Field Photographer
My favourite outdoor memory is my final visit to Abbot Pass Hut before it was dismantled. The hut had held a special place in my life ever since my first trip there in the 1990s with my dad, when we climbed Mount Lefroy. At 14-years-old, it was my first serious alpine adventure. Decades later, alongside several unsuccessful attempts on Mount Victoria, we returned to the hut once more. We set out before dawn beneath the northern lights, the cold, still air broken only by the crunch of crampons on snow as we moved through the darkness. We ultimately reached the summit, an experience that felt both earned and deeply personal. It remains one of my most meaningful mountain memories: a quintessential Canadian mountaineering experience, shaped by persistence, family and place. With the loss of the hut, it also marked a quiet farewell to a small but significant piece of Canadian mountaineering history.
Submitted by: Jennifer Malloy, Contributor
In 2024, I ventured north from Yellowknife on a 1,400 kilometre canoe trip with my buddy Arturo. The finishing leg of our trip was a 330 kilometre section of the Northwest Passage from the mouth of the Hood River to the hamlet of Kugluktuk. With a few days to go and nearing the end of our food, a big storm with 100 km/h winds was forecast so we pushed hard for 16 hours to make headway. At 11 p.m., after covering 76 kilometres that day, the wind hit and we had to pull in. With visions of our tent being blown across the tundra, we turned the corner and were delighted at the sight of a tiny, ramshackle cabin in the bay—the first structure we’d seen in 32 days. It didn’t have a door, but it did have 4 walls and a roof—to us, a veritable palace that we could just squeeze into. We hid out from blow for two days there, savouring our fortunate shelter and the journey almost complete.
Submitted by: Frank Wolf, Contributor
“It’s going to be a scorcher!” Every time rain drops turned our skirted canoes into tambourines, which was every day for the first 11 days on the Nahanni River, someone in our group would make the satirical forecast. The clouds clung to the treetops for the first few days; we never saw the Cirque of the Unclimables. At Virginia Falls, it rained so hard the river rose a foot overnight, cranking the waterfall’s volume from background noise into shout-to-be-heard. Even when the day started, clear rain was never far behind. Then on the last day on the Nahanni, it really was sunny, hot and dry. All day long. We pulled into a wide sandbar at Nahanni Butte, sweaty for the first time. We stripped, but instead of washing off the sogginess in the river, we scrubbed it off with a birthday suit mud slide. Coated in mud, warming in the sun, the wet and cold of the trip evaporated away.
Submitted by: Ryan Stuart, Field Editor
I was on an anniversary canoe trip across Killarney. Thirty years ago, I had written my first book, which happened to be on this gem of a park. A week into the journey, I found myself camped on one of my favourite lakes, surrounded by the white-quartz La Cloche Mountains. Loons gathered on the calm, turquoise-tinted water, the campfire crackled, a soft breeze blew through the stout pine, the scent of a crackling campfire filled the night air and the sunset was amazing. I sipped on a fine single malt scotch and relished in the fact that I had, 30 years later, made a life-long career at writing and rejoicing about such wild places.
Submitted by: Kevin Callan, Contributor
Cascade Falls holds more precious memories for me than anywhere else. Hiking across the smooth granite rocks surrounded by towering trees has provided me with some of the best nature therapy I’ve experienced. Braving its natural rockslide into the glacial waters takes my breath away every time—and I love it. There’s nothing like the splash of cold water that takes your breath away to make you feel alive. It’s the kind of place that reminds me why I fell in love with the outdoors in the first place.
Submitted by: Kathryn Anderson, Contributor
Ten years of trying to get to the Plain of Six Glaciers. TEN. Roaring avalanches, a global pandemic, swollen rivers that spilled their banks and a gnarly surf injury colluded to keep me away. So it felt pretty damn good to get a little closer to the sun and walk amongst the giants in August 2024.
Submitted by: Tom Stimson, Contributor
Based in: Winnipeg, MB
Instagram: @stimson.eh
I’ll never forget watching the northern lights dance in Churchill, Manitoba. Our group had stayed up late, hoping to see ribbons of green and pink, but cloud cover kept them hidden for hours. Just as we were about to leave, the sky opened up, revealing the most beautiful natural show I’d ever seen. Standing in the Arctic cold, our cheers of pure joy echoed through the silence as the colours danced overhead. It was a reminder that some things in nature are worth the wait.
Submitted by: Kelsey Olsen, Contributor
Based in: Cochrane, Alberta
Instagram: @kelseyrolsen
I had always imagined what it would be like to watch grizzlies feast on salmon, and I finally got the chance to do that in the fall of 2024. As I stood on an elevated platform on a rainy October afternoon, watching a female grizzly slowly cross a river in Homalco First Nation’s territory, the bear suddenly pounced into the flowing water and pulled out an enormous salmon. The fish was writhing in the bear’s mouth as she quickly pulled it to shore and began feasting. The tour is offered by Indigenous-owned Homalco Wildlife and Cultural Tours.
Submitted by: Debbie Olsen, Contributor
Instagram: @wanderwoman_deb
How do you celebrate a 25-year camping tradition? When the weather is scorching hot, you order pizza. I swear, every head in Darlington Provincial Park swivelled our way as the Domino’s car pulled up to our site, laden with over a dozen pizzas for 10 people and three dogs. We feasted in contented silence, pausing only to nod at the ample foot traffic that strolled by just to catch a glimpse of the saucy spectacle. For one night, we were kings of the campground.
Submitted by: Vanessa Chiasson, Contributor
Instagram: @VLCWrites
One of my favourite outdoor memories is the time I’ve spent wandering amidst the native mixed-grass landscape, admiring the easy-to-spot wildlife in Grasslands National Park. It’s the sound of trilling birds and how the grasses sway from whipping prairie winds. It’s the 360-degree views where seemingly endless sky and land meet while vastness envelopes, making you feel a part of the landscape—connected in every way—even emotionally. I will remain forever hooked on it.
Submitted by: Jenn Smith Nelson, Contributor
April 16, 2026, was a special day outside because I skied with my nephews for the first time. The ski trip was planned months in advance so we didn’t know if we would score. But in the end, the stars aligned and we woke up to over 15 inches (!) of fresh snow and relished a blue bird day at Mount Norquay, Banff, Alberta. The dream-like conditions coupled with hoots and hollers from my nephews experiencing powder for the first time is something I’ll forever cherish.
Submitted by: Nora O’Malley, Contributor
Based In: Ucluelet, BC
Teenagers don’t like being woken at 3 a.m. and dragged outside in their pajamas unless there’s a very good reason. On a cold March night in 2023, my son and I stood in our backyard in Sault Ste. Marie, awestruck by a powerful geomagnetic storm. Surrounded by tall red pines, the northern lights danced across the sky, spreading their celestial wings. It was my son’s first time seeing the ribbons of light and colour, and his joy made it my most memorable outdoor experience (and probably the reason I’m still alive to tell the tale… he didn’t kill me for waking him up to see them.)
Submitted by: Nadine Robinson, Contributor
Based in: Ottawa, ON
Instagram: @theinkran
With every step, our feet sank deeper into the sand as we trudged up the 35-metre-high dune, following its knife-edge crest flowing in sinuous curves. A rare windless evening brought absolute silence as we gazed over a seemingly endless sea of sand and the south shore of Lake Athabasca far in the distance. The moment was the grand finale of a magical wilderness journey—canoeing the William River that slices through the Athabasca Sand Dunes of remote northern Saskatchewan, then trekking for two hours across sand to reach the cluster of giant dunes. As we neared the top, the setting sun cast a shadow on the east slope of the dune while bathing the west side in a warm golden glow, a mesmerizing scene that remains unforgettable.
Submitted by: Robin and Arlene Karpan, Contributors
Moraine Lake. A kayak. And my partner at the time in my mid-20s changed my life. As an immigrant and child of South Asian immigrants, I didn’t grow up exploring the Great Outdoors. Sure, I played “outside” in my neighbourhood, but as a family, we rarely spent time truly in nature. But that changed for me the moment I took to paddle on Moraine Lake. Immediately utterly awe-stricken. The vivid turquoise waters. The towering Valley of the Ten Peaks. Breathtaking. All of it. After that first trip out west, nature remains my sanctuary and my solace. I went on to become an extreme adventure travel writer after this moment, traversing the globe, canyoneering off splendid mountain peaks, mountain biking in desert terrains, surfing everywhere from Costa Rica to Wales and more. The extremity of my adventuress has lessened these days, but my reverence for nature remains unwavering.
Submitted by: Charmaine Noronha, Contributor
Instagram: @charmedtravels
My favourite outdoor moment hails from the village of Sacré-Cœur, on the stunning shores of the Saguenay Fjord just 15 minutes from Tadoussac, in the Côte-Nord district of Québec. I was strapped into a harness and had a majestically beautiful—yet kinda crazy—Nordic husky named Sambuca take me for a walk. This activity is known as ‘cani-hiking’ or ‘cani-walking’; an on-foot version of dog sledding. Laughter filled the tranquil outdoors as my friends and I tried to adjust to the rhythm of our dogs who took off at the speed of being fired out of a cannon. Once we found our groove, the sensation of being pulled was so different from anything else I’d experienced. Sambuca and I had become one, which allowed us to forge a special bond. We marched through the stunning fall-coloured forest and open field trails making our way to a striking viewpoint, unveiling a glowing sunset over the Saguenay Fjord.
Submitted by: Sabrina Pirillo, Contributor
Based In: Toronto, ON
My favourite outdoor memory is lying on the frozen banks of Manitoba’s Churchill River on a clear mid-March night, with the temperature hovering around a bitter -25 C. Cocooned beneath layers against the subarctic cold and reluctant to move, I watched ribbons of luminous green and violet unfurl across the star-filled sky overhead. Seeing the northern lights ripple and dance above me filled me with the kind of awe that continues to draw me back to the outdoors.
Submitted by: Vivian Chung, Contributor
Instagram: @byvivianchung
I sit up straight and brush glowing embers off of my sleeping bag, still crooning Land of the Silver Birch. In the dark of the tarp shelter I can’t tell if our three toddlers have drifted off yet. The black winter night holds it’s breath and begins wrapping cold fingers around my body so I slap some tape on the holes spilling down, burrow back inside and meet my husband’s flickering eyes across the popping logs. We smile, content. There will be more patches applied to our bags and pads tonight and frost glitters on the ground, but in that moment we know big adventures with our little family are only just beginning.
Submitted by: Sylvia Dekker, Contributor
My favourite memory is rooted in the forests of my Vancouver Island childhood, and it’s one I’ve returned to again and again. At the first hint of Spring, my mum would take my sisters and I along forest trails searching for wildflowers—fawn lilies, trilliums, bleeding hearts, even skunk cabbage. Over time, I shared the ritual with my own daughter, wandering beneath the towering evergreens as the scent of warming soil filled the air. I’d teach her plant names, and show her all the ways that the forest welcomes us back after its winter sleep. The first spring after my mother died, the walk felt almost unbearably empty, yet somehow healing. It reminded me that while our time with the people we love is fleeting, the forests keep blooming as though patiently waiting for us to return.
Submitted by: Diane Selkirk
My favourite outdoor moment in Canada was experiencing the Canadian Rockies for the first time when visiting Banff, Alberta. There really is nothing like the feeling you get seeing them for the first time. They literally take your breath away, leaving you speechless. It was like being on a Coors Light can.
Submitted by: Britney Odusiji
Based in: Wiarton, ON
Instagram: @brit.ventures
Pow day at Fernie Alpine Resort during the 2025 season. This was my first winter living in the East Kootenays. We were blessed with a lot of fresh snow—creating soft, playful conditions and an unforgettable ride down the mountain.
Submitted by: Desiree
Based in: East Kootenays
Instagram: @desiree.erica
This is one of my favourite photos from July 2023 at my absolute favourite place in the world. The photo was taken as we scrambled just below the north summit of Mount Yukness. It was day one of a five-day trip to Lake O’Hara, where we stayed at the Alpine Club of Canada’s Elizabeth Parker Hut. It made me feel so thankful to live so close to such a beautiful place. Before we scrambled Mount Yukness, we talked with a couple who was staying at the lodge who had been coming there for the last 50 years, and they said it feels exactly the same now, that it hasn’t changed. It’s so important to preserve these areas.
Submitted by: Sarah Psiurski
Based in: Calgary, Alberta
Instagram: @sarahandthegiantpeach
In 2023, my now husband and I went to Grand Manan Island, New Brunswick, and a hurricane hit in the middle of the trip. Although it did lock us indoors for part of it, the night before the storm, we were blessed with what is still the most incredible sunset that I have ever seen. This inspired him to then propose in the same spot the following winter, and we were lucky to catch a sky (almost) as vibrant as that day.
Submitted by: Tabatha Banks
Based in: Fredericton, New Brunswick
Instagram: @tabbytravelstrails
After a night of heavy rain, I dragged myself out before sunrise, hoping the mountains might catch a touch of alpenglow. The air felt impossibly fresh, and as the first soft golden light began to spill across the distant peaks, everything around the pond fell into complete stillness. I was already taking in the quiet when a mountain goat appeared silently out of nowhere, wandering to the water’s edge for a morning drink. Sitting there alone felt serenely quiet already, but in his presence, it was as if every other sound in the world simply faded away—a rarity in this world and hard to do justice with words.
Submitted by: Dorian de Winter
Winter camping in February was such a long cold night, but I’d do it all over again for this view. There is something magical about the snow-covered mountains!
Submitted by: Shannon Massick
Based in: Port Alberni, BC
Instagram: @shann_explores
Took my orange adventure cat HIRO up Hill 60 for his very first camping trip, and Vancouver Island did not disappoint. We watched the sun sink right into Lake Cowichan while he kept my lap warm, but waking up to a breathtaking morning cloud inversion was the real core memory. HIRO’s eyes were completely full of awe discovering that he is officially a mountain lion now.
Submitted by: Becky Boise and HIRO
Instagram: @weemaybe
It felt like stepping into a memory I didn’t know I had where the river kept moving and the world finally slowed down. For a moment, nothing mattered except the sound of water and the feeling of being exactly where I was meant to be. (Location: Joffre Lakes Park)
Submitted by: Owen Russell
Instagram: @fotosbi0
It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to walk across a 400-million-year-old extinct ocean floor. Part exhilarating, part surreal, the Tablelands offer a landscape unlike anywhere else in the world. It feels like walking in another planet. Few places can provide an experience quite like this, and that’s what makes the Tablelands in Gros Morne National Park, NL so unforgettable.
Submitted by: Carolyn Murray
Instagram: @carolynmurray229
Every time I see this image, it reminds me of the scenic views in Kootenay National Park—where the mountains rise into the clouds and the forest road winds toward quiet wonder. Being there felt like stepping into another world. The stillness I found is something I’ll carry with me. (Location: Stanley Glacier trail, Kootenay National Park)
Submitted by: Darshan
Instagram: @darshan.talawadekar
My brother had his eyes on this hike in the Yukon for 3 years. I was able to help him check this one off his bucket list on a return trip to Kluane. The mountains were completely socked in and rain was following when we woke up that morning, but the weather cleared and we found a window in the afternoon to make the climb.
Submitted by: Scott Davidson
Instagram: @scott.s.davidson
The outdoors have always been my favourite place in the world, especially when I’m camping. I feel peaceful, away from the hurdles of daily life. When I’m camping I feel like everything gets a bit quieter and my brain shuts off. That’s why the first camping/canoeing trip with my family is the best memory I have. It’s two things I love at once: camping and my wonderful family. We had a blast, and being south asian, it was out of our comfort zone. Yet, it became a family tradition we carry to this day.
Submitted by: Iftikhar Rashid
“Where the heck is he taking me?” I wonder as my husband drives down a road, no, a path.. just barely, in a 4×4. We cross rivers surrounded by trees, mountains… and then we arrive at Kakwa Falls. Over our 37 years together, my late husband Andy and I had many adventures. In the early 80s, he worked as a Forest Guardian at Two Lakes, south of Grande Prairie, AB. We camped in a tent at the stunning, majestic falls often. He had me scale the side of the cliff and at one point I froze in terror looking down at the Kakwa River. In all those years, we were out there alone… in the middle of nowhere. We created special memories I’ll never forget. Thanks, Andy, for all our adventures.
Submitted by: Margaret Johansen
Based in: Vancouver, formerly from Toronto, ON and Grande Prairie, AB
One of my favourite outdoor moment in Canada was going on a road trip with my family to Alberta. I was able to experience the scenic views of the beautiful Alberta mountains and lakes including Maligne Lake. It was an incredible experience. And being able to do with my entire family, especially now that my sister moved away, was especially memorable.
Submitted by: Ghazala Rashid
This year I decided to take up mountain biking. My partner Kevin and I headed out to the trails close to our cabin around Grand Beach, Manitoba. While Grand Beach is famous for its sand dunes, the surrounding forest hides some fantastic trails. The trails have a wide variety of flowing singletrack, tricky roots and some steep climbs that kept my adrenaline pumping. As you can see in the photo, we survived the day still smiling, with a brand-new appreciation for two-wheeled adventures. It turns out you don’t need a massive mountain peak for a thrilling ride. Sometimes, the perfect trail is right in your own backyard!
Submitted by: Adrianna Szarek, Business Development Manager
We were four days into our paddling trip through Quetico Provincial Park, northwestern Ontario, and life had settled to a slower pace. The morning ritual of coffee, breakfast and breaking camp was mostly done in pleasant silence and our muscles had gotten used to hours of daily paddling, even in the strong winds this area is known for. Lunch breaks were extended; the water was warm for swimming and the smallmouth bass were plentiful. Dinner would be fish tacos for sure. Later that night, after my trip-partner had tucked into his one-man tent, I stayed out—sipping from the small flask of wine I’d packed in and gazing into a sky almost impossibly lit with stars. The moon had yet to rise, and in this vast area, unpolluted by anything including artificial light, I felt like I was travelling through space. (Which, I suppose, we are.) I set up my tripod and snapped a few shots—my camera’s long exposures even further bringing the skyscape colours to life. Utter silence. Stillness. Stars reflecting off a mirror lake. A perfect outdoor memory.
Submitted by: David Webb, President & Publisher
