I didn't really know what to expect when I left the house today. Not that I had never been snowshoeing before, we used to do it in elementary school and I had gone with Charlotte's mother earlier in the week, but never had I gone very far or for very long. Charlotte's parents and I, along with a man by the name of Louis who carpooled with us, left Gaspé at nine o'clock. A group of us, from Gaspé and Chandlerstarted our trek at ten o'clock, like planned, stopped for lunch at midday, like planned,but then something happened that was certainly not part of the plan. Halfway through our adventure we lost our way. A few times earlier on, while trying to follow the trail, we had become disoriented, but each time we had quickly found the "bonhomme bleu" that marked which direction we had to go. This time, though, we searched for at least half an hour without finding a blue gentleman to point us in the right direction. Finally, after half the group turned to follow our tracks back we heard a whistle from the trees across a river, someone had found both a sign with a man on it marking a trail and a geocache. Sadly it was not the right trail, backtracked to the vehicles to finish our endeavour. On our way back the stratus clouds that had been sitting above us threateningly decided to finally let loose big, fluffy snowflakes that I couldn't resist trying to catch on my tongue.
Eighteen of us (along with two dogs) had planned to take the trail Sentier des Rivières all the way to L'Anse-à-Beaufils and even though we didn't make it, I think we had a wonderful misadventure.
2. (Estimated location) Where we got lost for the finale time, and
3. Our intended destination.
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